


Tumbleweed

by Yukkuri



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Small Town, Coming of Age, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 14:23:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6473881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yukkuri/pseuds/Yukkuri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baekhyun is covered in coal dust, and Kyungsoo is covered in space dust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tumbleweed

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for exoquartus round 1 on lj

 

 

 

 _Is it possible, in the final analysis, for one human being to achieve perfect understanding of another? We can invest enormous time and energy in serious efforts to know another person, but in the end, how close can we come to that person’s essence? We convince ourselves that we know the other person well, but do we really know anything important about anyone?_ –Haruki Murakami, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle

 

 

 

 

 

This time it was Bob Dylan’s playing-- _Don’t Think Twice, it’s Alright_ and Baekhyun knew his uncle was in a good mood. He heaved a sigh of relief; a guttural sound that came deep within his chest. He shrugged on his overalls, oil-stained and frayed at the end, zipped it up until his neck, hiding his white t-shirt from view.

He looked over at his unmade bed, hurriedly picking up a cracker wrapper from the top of his pillow, and shoving it inside his pocket. He brushed his sheet with his fingers, making sure there wasn’t any leftover crumbs and folded his blanket. His aunt hated it when his bed was unmade. Once when he was nine, she pulled him from the breakfast table, dragged him upstairs to his attic-room and forced him to make his bed while she watched; hawk-eyes and pinched eyebrows, an insidious presence. Then when he was ten, he left a bunch of candy wrappers on top of his blanket, and when he came home from school the blanket was gone, and it remained gone for weeks. It was mid-December, the cold was burning, but he was too scared to ask for another blanket. That was the last time he left the room with his bed unmade.

Baekhyun walked out, closing the door behind him and tiptoed down the stairs. His feet moved skittishly; softly, making only the barest hint of sounds. Both his uncle and his aunt hated sounds, they loved their house graveyard-silent. It was kind of hard when everything in this house was creaky, squeaky, squawky.

His aunt was in the kitchen, flipping strips of bacon on the pan, his uncle’s favorite breakfast. Apparently she also realized that his husband was in one of his rare good mood and tried her best to keep it that way.

“Give me your plate.” She said when Baekhyun approached her. Baekhyun grabbed a plate from the kitchen counter and gave it to her. She took it wordlessly, placing two greasy bacons on his plate with thin spidery fingers.

They never really talked: his aunt and him. She was a quiet woman. She talked in hushed tones; never making a sound unless it was absolutely necessary. He treated Baekhyun like he was only an extravagant collection of problems. Sometimes, it was really hard for him to think that this woman was his mother’s sister. His mom was always loud—or she seemed like a loud person, he only ever saw her in pictures. But even in pictures he knew his mom was nothing like his aunt. She was always smiling, mouth wide open eyes crinkled into slits. And when she didn’t smile (he only found one or two pictures where she didn’t), he could trace her laughing lines and her eyes were always smiling, bright, twinkling like a morning star.

His mom was summer suns and his aunt was winter storms.

Baekhyun shoved his bacons into his mouth, chewing them quickly ignoring the burn in his tongue. He placed the dirty plate on the sink and walked out of the kitchen. He found his uncle on the porch, smoking—an old mp3 player beside him. Bob Dylan changed into Nina Simmons. He was still in his good mood.

Baekhyun crept into the steps, mentally praying that he was invisible. Unfortunately, just like his other prayers, it went unanswered.

“Going to work eh boy? Making yourself useful for once!” His uncle yelled. He was the total opposite of his aunt: he yelled, he shouted, he screeched. Deafening, thunderous, earth-shattering.

Baekhyun didn’t answer him. He learned it was the best way, to remain stoic and calm while the man threw insults at him. And he was in a good mood--the insults wouldn’t be as bad.

“Trying to save up a lot of money eh? Your teacher did say you yearn for college.” He cackled at this. He never laughed, he only let out horrible sounds. “Better not wasting too much time. You’re going to end up like all the shits around this slum, working for the fucking coal mine, better not to feed your brain with stupid dreams!”

Baekhyun shoved his hands into his pockets, hiding his clenched fists. The cracker wrapper crushed inside his palm. No he wouldn’t, he would get out of this town. He would, at any stake.

He jammed his feet into his muddy sneakers, hastily making his way out of this house—this grey sinister house that always filled him with dread. His uncle yelled for his wife to get him his breakfast and Baekhyun was meters away from the house, sucking the muggy air with hungry gulp, finally breathing easy.

 

 

“How’s the old bastard?” was how Chanyeol usually greeted him when he walked into the garage. It was “how’s the old bastard?” or “the old bastard goes off today?” and Baekhyun would answer him with “the usual”, “less angry”, “grumpy” or sometimes he didn’t say anything letting Chanyeol freely read his expression.

“The usual.” He answered this time and he could see Chanyeol’s shoulders slumped down, relief, the usual meant okay.

“Jinri left tons of sandwiches for you.” Chanyeol said, pointing at a plate full of sandwich on top a bumper of a black Nissan Versa. Baekhyun shook his head. Jinri was the daughter of the garage’s owner and she had a not-so-subtle crush on Baekhyun, a fact that both Chanyeol and Jongdae wouldn’t stop teasing him about. “She has nice legs.” Chanyeol wiggled his eyebrows disgustingly and Baekhyun threw him a sandwich which the latter caught happily.

“So I noticed.” He replied flatly, shoving two sandwiches at once into his mouth until his cheeks bloated, and held another sandwich in his hand.

“You’re a pig.” Chanyeol said and Baekhyun rolled his eyes.

“What are we working on?”

Chanyeol pointed to a dull red truck. “Flat tire.” He pointed to the black Nissan Versa. “Loose brake.”

“I’ll take the truck.” Baekhyun said. Chanyeol scrunched his nose in distaste, and Baekhyun grinned at him. He stalked off to the truck, crouching down and pressing his hand on the problematic tire. He removed the tube and pumped air into it to find the leak.

“Anyway, Sooyoung invited me for a movie. Her parents are out of town and she has the house all to herself.” Chanyeol told him, spinning a wrench in his hand, looking thoughtful.

“You know that means she wants to fuck right?”

Chanyeol ignored him and kept going, “Maybe I should bring her dinner? The only decent diner here is Jack O’s, I wonder if she likes Mexican..”

“She likes your dick.”

Baekhyun looked up in time seeing the wrench in Chanyeol’s hand flew above his head. He instinctively ducked his head, barricading his face with his hands. “Fuck you asshole!” Baekhyun glared at Chanyeol. “I could get a concussion from that!”

“You deserve it.”

Baekhyun made a rude gesture with his fingers.

“Lovely, Baekhyun.”

“Ugh man, y’know you don’t have to get her anything. She wouldn’t care about dinner. I’d be surprised if she even hungry at all tonight. Just get yourself nice and clean. Oh, and please wear a lot of deodorant. Your sweat’s vile.”

Chanyeol groaned, covering his face with his hands, and stomping toward the black Nissan. Baekhyun made a sympathetic sound in the back of his throat but didn’t offer his friend any form of comfort. He went back to work, roughing the surface of the flat tire with an emery cloth.

After finishing the truck, he worked on two other cars, changing oil and changing battery. Around mid afternoon, they stopped to eat lunch, leaning against a blue Subaru. Chanyeol opened his lunch box and Baekhyun practically salivating at the sight of nuggets and chicken wings. He could probably inhale all of them in one go. Chanyeol clucked his tongue at Baekhyun’s atrocious table manner which Baekhyun retaliated by chewing loudly making the latter elbowed him in the gut.

They finished their work at four, sweating and smelling faintly like burning oil. They washed their hands and heading into Chanyeol’s old Jetta, a secondhand that he got with a really cheap price. It was his prized possession. Baekhyun climbed into the passenger seat, carefully not touching any part of the car because Chanyeol always bitch his car smelled like the garage. The engine coughed and spluttered before the car jerked into motion.

“Have you heard anything from any of the college?” Chanyeol asked, once they were on the road.

Baekhyun shook his head, sighing. His stomach churned just like how it usually did at the mention of college. “No, not yet.”

Chanyeol flicked his gaze at him. “Hey, you’ll get in. We all would, you, me and Jongdae.”

Baekhyun forced himself to smile. “Yeah.”

“My dad told me that the coal mine is looking for more people.” Chanyeol said after a beat. Baekhyun turned to him, seeing Chanyeol’s face hardened.

“He still wants you to work for the mine?”

“He never stops.” Chanyeol answered, sharp and bitter. Baekhyun bit his lip.

Some of the people in this town worked for the mine, mostly the local. It used to be a big thing, the coal mine, long long time ago. All the people in this town used to work for the coal mine. It was basically the gold rush period of this town. Gold rush, coal rush. But after a mining accident in the early 90s, the mine was forced to close. A lot of people were unemployed that time and they had to rebuild the town again from scratch. Some people were still caught up in the glorious coal mine years though, so when the coal mine was opened again twelve years ago, they went straight back.

They were mostly the locals, or what Baekhyun liked to refer as the coal mine fascists. Chanyeol’s father was one of them, so was his uncle. The coal mine fascists were always talking about the mine: the mine this and the mine that and you have to work for the coal mine if you want to have a lot of money, you don’t need to have dreams there’s the coal mine, don’t go out of this town there’s no coal mine out there, coal mine is the answer, coal mine coal mine coal mine.

“He can’t force you.” Baekhyun said, angry. “You’ll be in college before he could even spit out coal mine.”

Chanyeol chuckled weakly. “Jongdae’ll freak if he hears about this.”

“He always holds a grudge towards your dad.” Baekhyun rolled his eyes.

“He still can’t forget the time he caught him kicking my butt.”

“In my opinion, you deserved that.”

“Asshole.”

 

 

Jongdae worked in a convenience store at the better side of the town; where the houses looked like they were taken straight from picture books: two story matchbox houses drowned in pastel colors with backyards and colorful flowers and swing sets and apple trees, filled with children clutching crayons covering the inside of the house with colorful drawings, whose parents were either a firefighter or a police or a teacher. A picture that was so different from his neighborhood.

Chanyeol parked his car near the entrance, lips already twitching into a smile. Jongdae had that effect on people.

Baekhyun got out of the car, opening the door to the convenience store, immediately thankful for the rush of cool air that hit his heated skin.

“Jongdae!” Chanyeol exclaimed, half-skipping to Jongdae like an overeager puppy. Baekhyun bit his smile at bay. Jongdae was clad in his usual ugly neon orange uniform with a matching hat on his head. But he looked like he belonged here, with his ugly uniform. It was his and Chanyeol’s dirty overalls that screamed they didn’t belong. Everything black, grimy, dirty, muddy, filthy, coal-y, mine-y, coal mine-y didn’t belong here.

“Hey guys!” Jongdae said, surprised, smiling at them from behind the cashier counter. “I thought we’re going to meet at Jack O’s tonight?”

“Work finished early and we have nothing to do.” Chanyeol answered, plucking a lollipop from the small rack on the counter.

“Remember to pay for that.” Jongdae narrowed his eyes at Chanyeol, and Chanyeol scoffed. “Oh! Your aunt was here Baek, and she bought tons of veggies, I think you’re going to have her special plant-based dinner.”

Baekhyun groaned earnestly. He hated vegetables. “I guess dinner is instant ramen then. I probably need two.” He mumbled miserably, rubbing his stomach.

“Or ten.” Chanyeol told him. “Two ramen won’t fill that rubber stomach of yours.”

“Thanks, Chanyeol.”

Baekhyun shot the guy a sarcastic smile. He turned on his heels and charged for the ramen aisle. Standing in front of shelves and shelves instant ramen, he decided that Chanyeol was right. Two ramen won’t fill the ravenous beast that was his stomach. After much thinking and consideration, Baekhyun finally settled on four instant ramen and two kinder eggs. He was walking back to the cashier counter when he heard Chanyeol said, “I have some leftover from lunch, do you want it?” And Baekhyun stopped in his track.

He didn’t even realize Chanyeol had taken his lunch box with him. Baekhyun couldn’t see Jongdae, but he could picture how Jongdae’s shoulders must be tensing and his jaw hardening.

Jongdae was a bit sensitive when it came to accepting help. It took him years and years and years of friendship to allow himself to accept helps from Baekhyun or Chanyeol. Jongdae lived in one of those trailer parks at the outskirt of the town. His father left them—him, his mother and two of his sisters when he was nine, leaving him as the backbone of the family.  Jongdae hated to be pitied just like Baekhyun hated to be confronted just like Chanyeol hated being told what to do. But he needed all the help he could get. Food was hard to come in the Kim household. Chanyeol had made the mistake to give Jongdae his lunch box before; when they were twelve, Jongdae had been so offended and furious he refused to talk to him for a week. He only started to talk to Chanyeol again after Chanyeol’s groveling turned downright pitiful and painful to watch.

“Thanks.” Jongdae finally said, and Baekhyun let out a long breath. He approached them, coughing to announce his presence. Jongdae’s head was ducked, staring at the silver lunch box in his hands and Chanyeol was looking at Baekhyun, eyes pleading.

“I think I’m going to eat these ramen now. I’m so hungry I think my stomach would eat itself.” Baekhyun placed his things on the counter for Jongdae to scan. “Let’s eat on the table near the big window.” He added with a tone that didn’t leave a room for rebuttal and Jongdae nodded, meekly, only smiling again when Baekhyun nudged him with his hand.

 

 

Of all days, Baekhyun’s favorite was Sunday. On Sunday almost half of the population of the town was in church. Baekhyun didn’t know a lot of people who wasn’t at the church on Sunday. He only knew him, Jongdae and the old man Lee down the road. Chanyeol asked Jongdae once why his family didn’t go to church on Sunday and Jongdae had answered with “we don’t need god, we need money” and that had shut him up he never mentioned it again. Chanyeol’s family was one of the church goers, the type that came 10 minutes early and sat at the front bench. Although Chanyeol often said he only went because of his parents.

Baekhyun was glad his uncle and his aunt never forced him to go to church. In fact, they made it kind of obvious that Baekhyun wasn’t invited in their church. As if Baekhyun would somehow taint the church’s holiness (they probably actually thinking that).

He skipped down the stairs, bouncing on the creakiest part of the step, making as much noise as he could. Thump, thump, thump. Clomp, clomp, clomp. The house was vibrating from all the noises he made. He sneaked into the kitchen, opening the fridge and drank milk straight from its bottle. He grabbed a cold sausage (without washing his hands first) and chewed it (with his mouth open), loud and disgusting and it would fill his aunt with rage if she were here. And then he walked outside, picking up his rusty bike and rode it to the convenience store to meet Jongdae.

The streets were empty, deserted. It was like a post apocalyptic alternative universe; or the town was under a serious zombie attack: people were hiding under the bunker, barricading their house, moving to Canada or Iceland. And here he was, the typical stupid side character, riding his bike peacefully in the middle of the chaos. He was probably that guy—the idiot who died first at every horror movies; earlier even compared to the stoner and the sex-crazed cheerleader.

Baekhyun parked his bike and walked into the convenience store. But when he stepped inside, it wasn’t Jongdae who was standing behind the cashier counter: it was an unfamiliar guy. The guy was short with thick raven hair half-covering his face and eyes as wide as the universe. The guy looked up when Baekhyun walked in and raised his eyebrows when Baekhyun just standing there, staring at him.

“Uh..” Baekhyun stumbled out intelligently. “Jongdae?”

The guy frowned, confused, before realization dawned on his face. “He’s not working right now, we exchanged shifts.” The guy answered. His voice was heavy, and monotonous. Like something that came out of an intercom.

And who are you was on the tip of Baekhyun’s tongue but he swallowed it, didn’t want to come off as rude. Instead, feeling awkward now that Jongdae wasn’t here, Baekhyun walked further into the store. Slipping into the snack aisle, he picked up bags of potato chip, bags of salt and vinegar chips and three kinder eggs.

When he strode out of the aisles, he found the guy was hunching over on top of the counter. He was scribbling, furiously, on what looked like a notepad. He slapped the notepad closed when he heard Baekhyun approaching, and Baekhyun glanced curiously at the leather cover. DKS was written on it in big block letters.

The guy scanned his things silently, and Baekhyun consciously making an effort not to stare. The guy was like a new ride in a carnival full of jumpy overexcited kids. It was a difficult job not to stare. They rarely got a new people in this town. For years and years, he’d been surrounded by the same people. The guy was obviously different from any of them, even wrapped inside the eye-sore orange uniform. He smelled different: like big cities, like proper education, like houses in picture books. _What are you doing here_ —again he wanted to ask.

“That would be 5 dollars and 95 cents.” The guy said with his intercom voice.

Baekhyun handed him a ten dollar bills which the guy took. He gave Baekhyun his change and began shoving Baekhyun’s things into a plastic bag. The guy stared at the kinder eggs in his hands for a second longer, before shoving them too, and gave the plastic bag to Baekhyun.

“Thanks.” Baekhyun mumbled, grabbing the bag, and vowing mentally to stop buying kinder eggs when it wasn’t Jongdae who stood behind the counter.

 

 

“His name’s Do Kyungsoo, he just moved here like a week ago or something.” Jongdae told him later when they were at Jack O’s.

“Why did he move here?”

“I don’t know, he lives in Vienna Down.” Jongdae said, lips tugged slightly upward in a mocking gesture just like how every other people in this town when they were talking about the rich neighborhood. “Heard that he’s here for the summer or something.”

Baekhyun chewed his bottom lip. “He’s..weird.”

Jongdae chuckled. “I totally understand what you’re saying. Last night I kind of gave him a tour around the store, and he just followed me around without saying anything. I kept asking him questions, you know, trying to be friendly, but it only made him uncomfortable he kept squirming and fidgeting when I was talking.”

“He judged me with his eyes for buying kinder eggs.” Baekhyun muttered.

Jongdae laughed and chucked a lumpy fry at him. Baekhyun batted it, glaring at Jongdae. “Now he knows how much of a loser you are, and he doesn’t even know your name yet.”

“Shut up.” Baekhyun stole a bunch of fries from Jongdae’s plate and stuffed them inside his mouth.

“Where’s Chanyeol by the way?” Jongdae asked, shaking his head when Baekhyun kept stealing his fries. He ended up moving his plate to Baekhyun which Baekhyun rewarded him with a huge grin.

“Sooyoung’s, doing the deed.”

Jongdae’s face fell for a nanosecond before he covered it with a disgusted expression. “Doing the deed. What are you, sixty?”

Baekhyun was about to ask Jongdae about his strange expression when his minced pies came, and then he was too busy clearing his table he forgot all about it.

 

 

It was late into the night when they stumbled out of Jack O’s. Jongdae bade him goodnight, walking to the direction of the convenience store to continue his shift. Baekhyun waved at him, watching until his friend’s back disappear into a corner, before he, too, made his way home.

The cold wind sent whiplash into his head; his cheeks felt fuzzy and his thoughts woozy. He dragged his bike beside him, kicking a lonesome stone up the sidewalk. The town was quiet; there was only the sound of the wind howling, loud, like a pack of angry wolves. Or maybe it was literally a pack of angry wolves howling. Chanyeol swore he’d seen a bobcat once.

Baekhyun turned into the dark alleyway of his house and abruptly stopped walking when the grey house was within sight. The house was lit up like a neon billboard. It was a bad sign. That meant his uncle was still wide awake.  His uncle was always sleeping before ten. If he still awake after ten he would be cranky, nasty, offensive: all different shade of horrible.

Baekhyun’s teeth sunk to his lower lip.  His stomach churned uncomfortably.

He pulled his bike faster and stow it away near the porch. Baekhyun made sure he didn’t make any sound when he stepped inside the house. His steps were feather-light and he even made sure he breathed as little as possible. He crept around the kitchen, trying to get into the stairs without being seen by his uncle, who, without a doubt was sitting, slouching in front of the television, covered in coal dust and grimes.

He made it to the first few steps without being noticed. Baekhyun almost pumped his fist in joy when suddenly he jumped, startled out of his mind, his uncle’s voice booming, closer to him than he expected.

“Having fun until late into the night are we?”

Baekhyun whipped around. His uncle was leaning against the living room wall, staring at him with squinty eyes, mocking smirk and his face was hues darker than his neck. This was bad.

“Where have you been?”

“Just the diner.” Baekhyun made his voice as casual as possible.

“Just the diner.” His uncle repeated in an annoying high pitch voice. His lips were moving in this awful dance. Baekhyun crunched his hands into fists. “That’s all you’ve been doing all day. Doing useless things with a bunch of pile of shits. And you’re the biggest pile of shit of them all.”

Baekhyun bit his tongue to stop himself from saying anything.

“Can you ever stop being so selfish Baekhyun? We took you in, gave you roof above your head, clothes, food and what do you repay us with? Spending all day wasting your time when you can help your aunt in the house! Or at least get another job, everything is getting more and more expensive and having you here meant an extra mouth to feed! You’re good for nothing son. You’re good for nothing.”

He knew the drill: hold his tongue, stay silent, don’t move, don’t breathe, don’t listen to anything he spat out, and he’d tell you to get the hell out of his face, and it’d be over.

He did just all of those things until his uncle opened his mouth again and said, “Your parents would be crying in their grave now. Giving birth to two hopeless bastards—“

“Don’t.” Everything was awful and vile and foul and sickening and the world was a tilt-a-whirl.

“Ha! Don’t want me to talk about that darling brother of yours?” His uncle spat. “Still bitter that he left you with us? I bet if your parents could see their sons now they would be glad to stay forever in their grave. One is a no good and the other is an uncontrollable violent---“

Baekhyun saw a flash of red. _Hellfire_. He charged down the stairs, almost grabbed his uncle by his collar before he remembered himself and he staggered back, heaving and gasping, wrecking his already wrecked chest.

“Don’t you dare.” He choked out, wobbly and shaky--his voice, his whole entire body.

“You’re such an ungrateful piece of---“

“What’s going on?”

They both turned around at the sound of his aunt’s voice. The woman stood behind them, clad in a sleeping robe, forehead crinkled in confusion.

“Your nephew needed a lesson.” was his uncle only explanation.

His aunt turned to Baekhyun and asked in a clipped tone, “what did you do?”

“Nothing.” Baekhyun answered through his teeth.

His aunt gave him a strange look. “Well go to your room and please behave yourself. You’re already causing us too many problems, it’s the least you could do.”

The way she said it sent a punch to his gut. Baekhyun went tight-taut, stiffly climbing the stairs to his room. There was an itch inside him, it grew bigger and bigger and bigger and his head was full of roaring madness. He closed the door to his room, slowly and softly, he didn’t want his uncle to come after him. He stared at his room and everything felt wrong. His bed was wrong, his closet, his desk, it wasn’t his room, it wasn’t his home, it was wrong. He wanted to destroy things. He wanted to pick up his desk and smashed it into the wall. He wanted to rip his sheets to shreds. Breaking, smashing, snapping, shattering, hurting, hurting, hurting.

His uncle knew. He fucking knew. Baekbom was a touchy subject. There were things about people that were apparent but you knew you couldn’t say anything about it. Like unsightly scar on their face, like someone’s frayed and tattered sweater, like Jongdae and his trailer park, like Chanyeol and his inability to disobey his father, like Baekbom.

Baekhyun raked his shaky hands through his hair. He stared at one spot on the floor hard and harder and harder until his eyes watered and the water leaking and he realized he was crying; frantic, breathy sobs, the kind that came from his diaphragm. The tears were in his throat, the tears were in his neck, the tears were in his clothes and it was dragging him down, down, down.

 

 

Baekbom never really talked about their parents. His brother was always a bit secretive. When he was a kid he wanted so desperately to be allowed to sneak inside his brother’s head—to share his secrets, to find out more stories about their parents that he’d had been too young to remember.

He admired his brother. Baekbom was the only adult he looked up to. He was the only connection Baekhyun had to his old life—the one with a mother and a father.

Baekhyun didn’t have any memory prior living with his uncle. His childhood memories were consisted of getting yelled by his uncle, getting scolded by his aunt, stealing snacks from the kitchen, stealing time to watch television, and playing with Baekbom. He had a lot of memories with Baekbom. Baekbom had filled every nook and cranny of his childhood. But the one he remembered the most was this: when he was six, the first time Baekbom got into a fight with their uncle, Baekhyun had a nightmare. He woke up in the middle of the night, crying, and Baekbom had pulled him into his arms, making soothing noises to try to calm him. But it was futile as his crying kept getting louder and louder and Baekhyun began screaming for mom and dad despite knowing that it was pointless.

“You’re their favorite.” Baekbom had whispered, suddenly and desperately. “Mom used to look at you like you hung the moon.”

And then Baekhyun stopped crying.

_Mom used to look at you like you hung the moon, mom used to look at you like you hung the moon, mom used to look at you like you hung the moon._

He was too young to notice Baekbom’s strained voice, his trembling hands, his shaking shoulders. Too busy playing the words over and over and over again in his mind like a broken tape.

That was the only thing Baekhyun knew about what his mother thought of him. That was the only proof he had of his mother’s existence—not just a woman in pictures, but a woman who used to breathe just like him, a woman who had feelings just like him (a woman who said that he was her favorite; that she used to look at him like he hung the moon).

He was Baekhyun, the boy who hung the moon.

 

 

It was raining viciously.

Storms brewed on the cold horizon and the sky was throwing an ocean. Baekhyun stood beside his bike on the entrance of the garage watching as the wind howling in rage and the trees moaning and creaking and bending.

Chanyeol had gone home hours ago, having to take his mom to her dentist appointment; and that’d left Baekhyun alone in the garage, stuck, in the middle of the storm. He had to close the garage so staying here wasn’t a choice. He could go home, of course, it was only 5 minutes away, but he’d much rather got caught in the storm, drenched to his very core, than spending even one extra hour at the house. So the next best option was the convenience store. Except that meant he had to bike through the storm for 8 minutes.

But he’d pick 8 minutes of hypothermia-induced-cardiac arrest over extra painful hours trapped under the same roof with his aunt and uncle.

So Baekhyun hopped onto his bike, grabbing the handlebars like a life wire, clenching his teeth, and bolted through the storm. Prickling cold immediately assaulted him. He resisted the urge to shout and pedaled faster. It was so cold he could feel his teeth started to chatter as if there was an earthquake erupted inside his mouth. The wind made a scary whooshing sound around him and he could feel his hands, his legs went numb. He forced his legs, now just a pair of frozen limbs, to pedal faster and faster and faster.

Baekhyun thundered into the convenience store, parking his bike, and hobbling inside. The store was empty, save for the guy—Do Kyungsoo, who just moved here a week ago to spend the summer with his intercom voice and mysterious notepad—behind the counter. Baekhyun averted his gaze before Kyungsoo caught him staring (again).

Following his instinct, Baekhyun scurried off to the snack aisles. He reached for a pack of Oreo and a cup of Reese’s, holding them in his arms like a baby. His hands were itching for kinder eggs, he could hear them calling out his name. But he wouldn’t give the guy any reason to judge his snack selection again. Baekhyun clenched his fist, hardening his resolve, and grabbed a bumble bar chunky cherry instead. Gluten-free, organic sesame bar, yum. He then went to get a small towel. He needed to dry himself before he literally died from hypothermia.

Baekhyun walked back to the cashier, placing his things on the counter. When he looked up, his gaze locked with Kyungsoo’s. Baekhyun balked. The guy was staring blatantly at him. Baekhyun’s eyebrows went taut, his cheeks prickled annoyingly, he opened his mouth about to ask the guy _what?_ but Kyungsoo had shifted his gaze to stare at a spot behind Baekhyun. Confuse, Baekhyun followed him.

And o-oh.

He left _puddles_ on the ground, big round wet puddles all the way to the snack aisles and back to the cashier counter. Baekhyun stared at the floor under him, at the water that gently trickling from his wet overalls hitting the floor in rhythmical _tick, tick, tick._

“I—uh—“ Baekhyun swallowed, “I’m sorry about—“ he motioned to the wet floor “I forgot that I—“ he made a gesture with his hand—pointing to his drenched self—like he was wrapping his body with saran wrap.

“It’s fine.” Kyungsoo coughed. “I mean it’s my job to clean it, so. Um. I didn’t mean to be rude I was just wondering how come you get this uh wet.”

“Oh.” Baekhyun scratched his head awkwardly. “I rode my bike here. Through the storm.”

Kyungsoo’s universe eyes widened and for a second it looked like those eyes were swallowing his face. “Wow.” He finally said. Awe or judgment, Baekhyun couldn’t decide.

“Yeah.” Baekhyun chuckled weakly.

“Did you get something to dry—“ Kyungsoo caught the white towel laying innocently on the counter. “Oh.”

“I did.” Baekhyun answered, voice strangely crackly, nodding at the towel.

“Good.” Kyungsoo said, coughing again, and Baekhyun noted the slight flush on his cheeks. Baekhyun bit his tongue.

He watched the guy scanning his things in silent, a dull and repetitive motions but somehow it looked very interesting in his eyes.

After Baekhyun paid for his things, he took his plastic bag from Kyungsoo and walked to sit at the nearest table. He immediately fished out his towel, covering his head with it, and began to furiously rubbing his hair. He was an expert in drying hair without a dryer. His aunt didn’t own a hair dryer, and having only one bathroom in the house meant he had to do everything at a lightning speed before his uncle came banging on the door. Baekhyun shook his head violently to quicken the drying process; shaking it from side to side until he became dizzy. Once he felt that his hair was dry enough, he took off the towel from his head and used it to wipe his face.

And that was when he caught Kyungsoo was watching him from his peripheral vision. It was a blurry picture on the corner of his eye, but he swore, oh god, that the guy had a snigger planted on his face. It took all the things in the world to keep Baekhyun from strangling his own neck with the towel.

He just did a completely stupid thing in front of Kyungsoo. Shaking his head ( _half_ _head banging_ , oh god) like a madman while Kyungsoo was watching him the whole time. So embarrassing.

Baekhyun carefully lowered the towel onto the table. He peeked at Kyungsoo, but the guy had his back turn to him now, typing something on the computer, acting like nothing happened. Poker face asshole.

Swallowing his pride, Baekhyun dig around his shopping bag, and took out his Oreo. He devoured it ravenously; intending to eat his embarrassment away.

 

 

The rain was pouring harder and harder to the point that he couldn’t see anything beyond the window. It felt like he was drowning; sitting where he was, right in front of the big window, staring at the veils upon veils of rain falling from the bruised sky. He hoped it would stop before 10 though, or at least turned into a light drizzle, he didn’t want to go through another tortuous bike riding--he wasn’t sure he’d make it alive this time.

The convenience store was empty; there was only him and Kyungsoo for so long and for some reason, Baekhyun felt overly conscious about everything he did. He had eaten everything he bought, even savoring the bumble bar until the very last bit, and he had spent the last fifteen minutes staring blankly at the rain; wishing it would stop, wishing it would drown the town.

Kyungsoo had been a silent presence in the corner of the room. Out of curiosity, Baekhyun cut his glance toward the guy, and surprised, when he found the guy was reading something—his notepad? No. a comic book?—leaning lazily against the counter. Baekhyun zeroed in the cover of the comic. It was colorful, full of bursting colors: blue, yellow, orange, purple, and black. It was a bit startling. Baekhyun wouldn’t peg Kyungsoo as someone who reads comics.

A man; clad in a cool gleaming black-orange armor? metal suit?, was standing in front of a purple-blue-yellow planet, he was half-floating (in space), mouth opened in silent scream and “I will save the Exo Planet star system!” was written beside him in metallic color.

“Exo Planet.” Baekhyun mouthed the title.

“Have you read it?”

Baekhyun jumped at the sudden voice. He was completely absorbed in the cover of the comic he forgot all about Kyungsoo. “I—uh—no?” He stammered.

“Well it’s not really that famous, especially compared to all of those marvel comics.” Kyungsoo said, flipping another page on his comic.

Baekhyun swallowed. “What’s it about?”

Kyungsoo closed his comic. Baekhyun was scared that he had unintentionally annoyed the guy, but then Kyungsoo trudged on, “It’s about this guy.” He pointed at the man in black-orange armor-metal suit. “His name is Kai and he’s like the captain of this really big spaceship called Space Bolt. He was chosen to go on a suicide mission to infiltrate another galaxy and finding a way to free the Exo Planet from its dying solar system.”

“That sounds cool!” Baekhyun replied earnestly.

And the strangest thing happened: Kyungsoo smiled. It transformed his whole face: he looked 5 years younger—10 years younger; Baekhyun’s lips went dry fast.

“It is!” Kyungsoo _exclaimed_. “Kai is an anomaly. Everyone in Exo Planet could hear each other’s thoughts you know? But Kai was born without that ability, and all of the people there treated him like he didn’t belong. But after the solar system was dying, the people started to turn on each other so hearing each other’s foul thoughts drive them insane. But Kai is free from all of that, so he was—“Kyungsoo suddenly stopped talking, the flush was back in his cheeks, and he gave Baekhyun a small embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry I just started to ramble—“

“No!” Baekhyun cut him off. “I think..I think it’s really interesting.” He added, shyly.

“Do you want to borrow it?”

Baekhyun opened his mouth, closed it again, opened it again and managed a meek “can I?”

“Of course!” Kyungsoo was smiling again, and Baekhyun had to slam his eyes down to stop himself from staring at those heart-shaped lips.

“Actually, here.” And Kyungsoo was walking toward him. Baekhyun hastily straightened himself. Resisting the urge to fix his hair (because he was 104% sure that his hair looked like a disgusting wet bird nest), he schooled his expression when Kyungsoo sat right in front of him.  The guy placed his comic on the table and Baekhyun was secretly glad he had something to look at beside Kyungsoo’s distracting feature.

“This is the first volume, I have the second and third volume at home, so if you done reading this one you could well—“ Kyungsoo scratched his head again. It was probably his nervous gesture; which was kind of sort of adorable.

“Thank you.” Baekhyun half-mumbled.

“Exo planet is probably one of the most underrated comic ever but it’s really good.”

“I’m sure I’m going to like it. I don’t have anything to compare it with, though.”

“You’ve never read a comic before?”

“No. This will be my first time.” Of course he had to say the most virginal thing ever. Baekhyun flushed, hands itching to slap his own mouth.

“Oh, I don’t mean to offend you.” Kyungsoo said, looking embarrassed, probably mistaking the meaning behind the sudden crimson blooming in Baekhyun’s cheeks.

“No! You didn’t offend me or anything.” Baekhyun corrected him. “I’ve always wanted to read a comic, so I’m very excited to start this.”

“Yeah?” The smile was back on Kyungsoo’s face. “I promise it won’t disappoint you.”

The words sounded weirdly intimate to Baekhyun’s ears: _I promise it won’t disappoint you, I promise it won’t disappoint you, I promise it won’t disappoint you_ ; like Kyungsoo was talking about something bigger than just a comic book, like Kyungsoo was talking about something, just something more, and it turned his chest from solid to liquid mass.

His brain had turned into a pathetic sappy machine.

 

 

It was still raining when he got home; a steady pitter-patter on his bedroom window. Baekhyun lay on his bed in his worn-out pajamas, holding Exo Planet in his hand. He spent 10 seconds staring at the glossy cover; at Kai’s handsome face, before he cracked it open, feeling oddly enthralled at the sight of colorful panels of space adventure.

The comic started with Kai’s childhood; a small and fragile-looking kid, sitting alone at Exo Main Academy while the rest of his friends were sorted into groups: healer, fighter, teacher, and ruler. Kai was left picking at his nails, consciously knowing that he wouldn’t get sorted into any of those groups. Baekhyun’s heart instantly went to him.

Baekhyun spent the rest of the night breathing in the story until his eyes turned heavy and his brain had a hard time to keep up with Kai’s adventure. He finally surrendered, closing the book and carefully tucking it beside him. His head was still caught in Kai’s thoughts, his feelings, and he pulled the comic closer to him.

Baekhyun closed his eyes.

And thinking of Kyungsoo.

Baekhyun didn’t mean to think about Kyungsoo, but his mind had taken off on a journey of its own; tracing those bush-thick eyebrows, the raven color hair that tumbled effortlessly over his face, the soft squishy cheeks (Baekhyun had wanted to dip his finger there, wanting to test if they were as soft as they looked), the indelible heart-shaped lips, his smile—child-like and pretty and exquisite and wonderful and terribly awfully immensely beautiful.

 

 

Baekhyun fell in love.

All.

The.

Way.

Down.

With Kai.

And it sort of weird because he’d never felt this obsessed with something. He’d never had a favorite book, a favorite band or a favorite movie. He wasn’t like Chanyeol who went into this rapper obsession thing after he watched 8 Mile or Jongdae who had a huge poster of Nine Inch Nails plastered on his bedroom ceiling. Baekhyun liked to think himself as a nihilist when it came to these things.

At least before Kai.

But Kai was different. Baekhyun could relate to Kai so much like he had never done to anyone before.

He had finished the comic last night. It had ended with Kai being sent to a dangerous journey to explore their neighboring galaxy and Baekhyun had to scream to his pillow because he didn’t have the next volume with him. The thought of visiting Kyungsoo in the convenience store came across his mind more often than not but with his works swamping him he didn’t have any chance.

“You look rough.” Chanyeol commented with a mouth full of sandwich when Baekhyun dragged his feet into the garage.

“Sleep deprived.”

Chanyeol looked shocked. “Did you get laid?”

Baekhyun made a face at him and stomped his feet to get his tools.

“No, then. So what did you do up all night?”

“Reading.”

“I’m sorry?”

Baekhyun narrowed his eyes at Chanyeol. “Retching. I ate some weird shit yesterday.”

“Oh. I thought for a second that you said reading.” Chanyeol chuckled stupidly. Baekhyun wanted to smack his brain out of his frontal bone. “So, are you feeling better?”

“I guess so.”

“Better enough that you’re up for a movie tonight?”

“Uh sure, but not too late okay? The old bastard is a bit sensitive lately.” Baekhyun picked through the tools absentmindedly.

“Did something happen?” Chanyeol’s soft and breezy voice turned hard and cold all of sudden. Baekhyun stopped what he was doing and cocked his head to his friend.

“Nothing’s happened Chanyeol.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he just being super annoying lately, bugging me to help at the house and everything.”

“Helping at the house? Man, you’re paying for almost all of his bills.”

Baekhyun shrugged, helpless. Chanyeol gritted his teeth. “I think his fats have choked his heart that’s why he’s getting more evil every day.”

Baekhyun laughed bitterly. “Yeah, that’s definitely what’s happened.”

 

 

“It stinks like garbage dump here, have you taken a shower after work Chanyeol?” was the first thing that came out of Jongdae’s mouth when he climbed inside the car that evening.

“He didn’t.” Baekhyun answered at the same time Chanyeol shouted, “I wore deodorant!”

“You’re worst than Jongah. But she’s six so that makes it slightly okay.” Jongdae kicked Chanyeol’s feet from the dashboard and closed the door to the passenger seat. “I wonder how all those girls you’ve been sleeping with could stand it.” Chanyeol mumbling incoherently under his breath, ears were flaming red, and eyes ducked to stare at his feet that were now jammed under the dashboard uncomfortably.

“How’s Jongah?” Baekhyun asked from the back seat.

“Difficult.” Jongdae groaned. “I don’t remember Jongee being that difficult.”

“But she adores you so much.” Chanyeol added, pulling out of the convenience store. Baekhyun thought he saw Jongdae turning his head to Chanyeol and gave the guy such a sweet smile, but he was too distracted by a figure walking toward the convenience store clad in a black hoodie and black jeans; fluffy hair was ruffling against the wind and universe eyes were staring straight ahead.

 

 

His uncle’s yelling voices were something that he was very much familiar with. It was loud, jarring, and full of rage. When he was a kid, Baekhyun learned to look for signs of a foul mood festering in his uncle. Whenever his uncle came home with ragged breath, veins bulging in his temple, and grimes on his skin sticking more than usual, he’d stay out of his sight, speak in a polite manner and try to make himself as invisible as he could—as soundless as he could. It felt like following some kind of twisted schedule that he couldn’t easily keep track of.

The only constant thing about his uncle’s yelling was it was always directed at him. But tonight, when he opened the back door of the kitchen, he found that his aunt was at the receiving end of his uncle’s mad shouts.

Baekhyun froze in the doorway; the tall looming shadows of his uncle and his aunt spilling into the dark kitchen, and his ears were ringing with how loud his uncle was shouting. He took a step, two steps, three steps into the kitchen, getting closer to the battle ground where he could see his uncle was spitting rage and his aunt was turning her head, holding her body like a shield.

“—It’s like I don’t know you anymore!” His uncle shouted, beefy arms slashing at the air in frustration.

“If you could only stop for one second and listen—“

“Why now? Is it because you’re starting developing feelings for—“

“That’s not—“

“You do, don’t you?! You—“

“I’m not—“

“Yes—“

They were cutting each other; with words, with looks, with their arms that won’t stop slashing, bashing, slapping against the air. Baekhyun was still standing, rooted in his place, because honestly he didn’t know what to make of _this_.

But he knew he would literally get cut if he took even a half step into their battle ground. He spun on a heel, and slowly crept back out of the house. Chest still drumming from what he was just witnessed. It was better to stay out of the house now.

He picked up his bike again, mounted it and wandered aimlessly around town.

 

It was in the middle of the night and Baekhyun had been riding his bike for hours. His feet had started to ache and he had begun to feel the chill of the night wind seeping under his thin jacket. He wasn’t sure if it was safe already to return home, and he didn’t want to take a risk. He was secretly scared that his uncle still had a lot of leftover rage after his fight and he’d lash it out on him.

Baekhyun rode down the narrow road. He got the LED of his bike light switched on, and the light casting shadows all around him. They followed him, surrounding him, like hundreds of fluttering dark birds, and it scared him and made him feel safe at the same time. Like the feeling he got when he stared at the back of his eyelids—dark and safe.

He had pedaled through the night without destination. He didn’t have any place in mind, so he was a bit surprise when he arrived in front of the 24 hour convenience store. The store was all light up and Baekhyun knew who was currently standing behind the cashier counter.

He bit his lip. The image of a child-like smile flashed in front of him and his heart gave a little, albeit a very excited kick. Baekhyun swallowed, and he felt his saliva going down his throat.

He was about to turn his bike, pedaled to the opposite direction, when he caught a flash of orange in the corner of his eyes. Baekhyun craned his neck and found Kyungsoo, still in his orange uniform, sitting on a bench at the secluded corner outside the convenience store. Through squinty eyes he saw that Kyungsoo had his notepad again and was scribbling something on it. Before he could change his mind, Baekhyun swerved his bike toward Kyungsoo.

The guy looked up out of instinct when he heard Baekhyun coming. His eyes widened, and his lips were curled into a small surprise smile. The way he carefully closed his notepad and slipped it into the back pocket of his trouser didn’t escape Baekhyun’s attention.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working inside?” Baekhyun asked, stopping right in front of the guy.

“Are you always doing this? Biking in the middle of storm, biking in the middle of the night?” Kyungsoo asked back, staring at Baekhyun in bewilderment.

Baekhyun grinned. “Something like that.”

“Isn’t it cold though?”

“A bit.” Baekhyun shrugged. “And what are you doing here?”

“Uh..just looking for some air.” Kyungsoo replied and Baekhyun knew he was lying. Although he wasn’t close enough to Kyungsoo to point it out.

“I’ve—I’ve finished Exo Planet.” Baekhyun told Kyungsoo and he watched as Kyungsoo’s smile widened.

“Yeah? And do you like it?”

“I love it.” Baekhyun shyly muttered. “Kai is really cool. I love it when he fought the high councils and just started fucking them up?”

“That part is brilliant.” Kyungsoo agreed.

“Although I hope he could escape Exo Planet and find another life in another galaxy.”

“There’s something big happened to him in another galaxy but I won’t spoil you.”

Baekhyun groaned. “Then don’t tease.”

Kyungsoo chuckled. And Baekhyun’s sappy brain purred hungrily.

“Are you leaving soon? Or uh do you want to sit?”

“Oh, no..I mean--I’ll—I’ll sit.” Baekhyun stuttered, climbing down his bike and almost fell in his haste. He thought he heard Kyungsoo was chuckling again, but the blood was rushing to his ears as a side effect of his embarrassment so he wasn’t really sure. Baekhyun plopped down on the far end of the bench, so close to the edge he almost tipped over. Even with all the space between them, Baekhyun still could feel the heat from Kyungsoo radiating to him, pressing and pressing, wave after wave, and it made his heart jackhammered against his rib.

“Do you want to borrow the next volume?” Kyungsoo asked, and it took Baekhyun a full second to get that he was talking about Exo Planet.

“Y-yeah, of course. Thank you.”

“Just come during my shift, I work at night most of the times…” Kyungsoo trailed off. Baekhyun turned his head to face him and found that Kyungsoo was looking at him with a crease on his forehead. “I don’t know your name.” He suddenly stated.

“What?” Baekhyun asked, taken aback.

“We haven’t properly introduced ourselves.” Kyungsoo shook his head, smiling.

Baekhyun almost blurted that he already found out about his name from Jongdae, but he stopped himself. He coughed and then told Kyungsoo his name, “I’m Baekhyun.”

“Baekhyun.” Kyungsoo repeated. Furrowing his eyebrows and let the syllables rolled carefully out of his tongue. And it felt like he was caressing those letters, b a e k h y u n. Baek-hyun. Baekhyun never heard someone saying his name like that: carefully, cautiously—“Baekhyun.” Kyungsoo said it again before Baekhyun had a chance to recover from the previous one. And he wanted Kyungsoo to just do that, saying his name over and over again, just an endless loop of his name in that smooth intercom voice.

“Oh, and I’m Kyungsoo.” He told Baekhyun.

Baekhyun repressed the urge to say _I know_ , instead he followed Kyungsoo and repeated his name with his voice, “Kyungsoo.” It didn’t sound as amazing as when Kyungsoo said his name; his voice crackly, wobbly, too thin and too soft, it sounded like the name was punched out of him all of the sudden—unprepared and spontaneous. When Kyungsoo had said his name it sounded like he had a thousand of practices before, smooth and perfect.

“Kyungsoo.” Baekhyun repeated again and Kyungsoo was staring at Baekhyun like he had just said his name smoothly and perfectly, like he also had a thousand of practices, like Kyungsoo also wanted Baekhyun to say his name over and over again. An endless loop of his name in Baekhyun’s crackly wobbly too thin and too soft voice.

 

 

“So how do you liking this town so far?”

Kyungsoo ripped his eyes away from the building on the other side of the road and facing Baekhyun with a thoughtful expression on his face. “I’m not sure, I mean nothing eventful happened yet, beside..” Kyungsoo coughed, scratching his head. “I haven’t seen anything in this town yet it’s what I want to say. I came here for the summer because my mom used to live here before.”

“She did?”

“Yeah.”

“And wh-where is she now? Did she escape this town? I’ve always wanted to escape this town.”

 Kyungsoo gave him a small smile. “She died two years ago.”

Baekhyun felt like a fist down his throat, and he scrambled to say, “I’m sorry, Kyungsoo, I—“

“Hey, it’s okay.” Kyungsoo soothed him. “She’d been sick for a long time. And during that period she always wanted to come here, but she couldn’t get out of bed. She told me I would love this town.”

Baekhyun gnawed at his lip, still feeling like a knot was forming in his stomach for bringing Kyungsoo’s mother into their conversation. Kyungsoo didn’t look angry or upset or sad, but he’d turn his head back toward the building. Baekhyun had lost both of his parents, but they were gone before he could remember their face, so the lost even though it was always there in a form of hollow ache and longing, was different from what Kyungso must felt. The closest Baekhyun had to losing someone was Baekbom. And Baekbom was still alive, so he didn’t know how it was justifiable. Desperately, Baekhyun croaked, “Do you?”

Kyungsoo cocked his head to him, confused. “Do I what?”

“Love this town?”

“I think..I love some part of it.” Kyungsoo decided. Baekhyun wanted to ask him what part of this town he loved, but Kyungsoo already continued talking, “You said that you want to escape this town?”

 “I..yeah. I do.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to be stuck here working for the coal mine.”

“It used to be really big isn’t it?”

“The coal rush period.” Baekhyun muttered, and Kyungsoo chuckled lowly.

“So where do you want to go?”

Baekhyun thought about Northeastern Illinois University brochure he saved in the very back of his drawer. “I don’t know yet..”

“Well, on the bright side, you are free to choose wherever you want to go in this world.”

Baekhyun smiled. “Yeah.”

Kyungsoo was about to smile at him, Baekhyun was staring at the spark on the corner of his lips, shy tugs upward that immediately bent down when he caught something behind Baekhyun. Baekhyun followed his gaze and saw a man was walking inside the convenience store.

“A customer. Wait a sec Baekhyun.” Kyungsoo told him and then scurrying off inside. Baekhyun watched as he disappeared from his sight, before slumping against the wall and looked up at the sky.

_You are free to choose wherever you want to go in this world._

He was. He could go wherever and whenever he wanted. He had the money from years and years of working in the garage since high school. It was just that Baekhyun didn’t want to go wherever he wanted in this world—or maybe he should rephrase it: he didn’t want to go wherever he wanted in this world _alone._

Alone was such a scary word. He had picked Northeastern Illinois University because he’d managed to convince Chanyeol and Jongdae to go with him, and they had promised to each other that they’d leave this town together. His friends, especially Chanyeol, didn’t think too much about college back then. Chanyeol was set to work for the mine no matter how much he loathed it, and Jongdae couldn’t exactly leave this town with how dependent his family with him. But Baekhyun persuaded them, telling them that they deserved a better life, a better town, a better family—one that they built themselves.

Sometimes he wondered if he did the right thing. If persuading his friends to come with him was the right thing; taking Jongdae from his family, stealing Chanyeol from his father, whether he did all of those things pure out of selfishness. But he wanted to be always close to his friends. They were his family, the one that he adopted for himself.

Before his mind could walk deeper into the dark and depressing alley, the door to the convenience store was opened, and the man walked out carrying a plastic bag followed by Kyungsoo who was half-jogging his way.

He halted in front of Baekhyun, taking something from his pocket and tossed it to Baekhyun.

“What—“ Baekhyun scrambled to catch it. _It_ that turned out to be a kinder egg when he opened his palm. Baekhyun tilted his head at Kyungsoo, flushing to his very roots.

“Thought you’d like that.” Was Kyungsoo only response, moving to sit beside Baekhyun again, an inch closer than before. Baekhyun gripped the kinder egg in his hand like a life line.

“You remember—“

“Of course.” Kyungsoo scoffed. “It reminded me a lot of Sehun.”

“Who’s Sehun?”

“My two years old cousin.”

“Fuck off.”

Kyungsoo shot him a playful grin and Baekhyun definitely didn’t feel the sizzle in his stomach. He distracted himself by cracking the kinder egg. Shoving the chocolate into his mouth, he took out the toy which was a blue hippo with red snapback, and tucked it safely inside his jeans pocket.

“I bet you have hundreds of those kept somewhere inside your room.”

“Inside a box under my bed.”

“Of course.” Kyungsoo snickered and Baekhyun narrowed his eyes at him. “You probably also keep crayons, building blocks, and those tiny doll houses along with them.”

“Hey! I’m not a kid!” Baekhyun wasn’t sure if he and Kyungsoo were at the stage where they could comfortably shove each other, but he couldn’t help it. He shoved Kyungsoo which only made the latter broke into peals of laughter, hunkered down and clutching his stomach. “Shut up.” Baekhyun grumbled.

Kyungsoo straightened up, still half-laughing, and that was when something fell onto the ground with a loud _thud._

Kyungsoo’s notepad.

They were staring at it in unspoken silence. Baekhyun fidgeted awkwardly, wasn’t really sure if he should pick it up for Kyungsoo. Before he made any decision, Kyungsoo already crouching down and grabbed it with his hand. He held the notepad in his hand—seeming not realizing that he held it too tight his knuckles whitened.

Something thick whipsawed its way between them, and Baekhyun held himself as still as statue, until he finally broke and croaked, “What’s DKS?”

It took a full second for Kyungsoo to answer him, and when he did his voice sounded far away, “It’s my initial. Do Kyungsoo.”

“Oh.” Baekhyun whispered softly. He fidgeted again. Kyungsoo seemed to sense his discomfort because he was back facing Baekhyun again, giving him a small embarrassed smile.

“I’m sorry, I made this notepad seemed like a big deal.” Kyungsoo shook his head and Baekhyun shook his head back, not knowing what to say. “It’s nothing actually.” Kyungsoo began, and then started, “It’s just a collection of my sketches.”

“Sketches?” Baekhyun frowned. “You draw?”

“Uh yeah.” He clamped his teeth onto his bottom lip, and then handed Baekhyun the notepad. “You can look inside it if you want.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to—“

“I told you I made it sounded like a big deal. But it’s really nothing. They’re not even that good.”

Baekhyun carefully took it; as if the notepad was made from glass and a big _fragile handle with care_ sign was plastered in front of him. When he looked down at the first page, Baekhyun’s eyes immediately widened, and his mouth letting out a gasp he couldn’t cage.

“Whoa..”

The first two pages of the notepad were filled with black and white constellations—an ocean of constellation. A boy in tiny wooden boat was crossing the sky-ocean and the star-water rippled around him. Then he turned to the next page and found the exact replica of Starry Night in rough black and white sketches. The next page was a full portrait of a toothy old man, smoking, and slouching against a wall, gaze lost at somewhere in the distance—Baekhyun wanted to trace his fingers at those wrinkles gracing the old man’s face.

“They’re really..” Baekhyun flipped another page and found a drawing of a bunch of men, looking weary, tired, worn-out, wrung-dry; like a shirt that was used way too many times. They were wearing yellow helmets with dirty overalls and a pair of boots covered in grimes: the mine workers. “Amazing.” Baekhyun finished weakly, sounding somewhat out of breath.

“Thanks, Baekhyun, I—“ Kyungsoo abruptly stopped talking because Baekhyun had just flipped a sketch of a man in all of his naked glory. Baekhyun’s throat dried and his gaze refused to budge from the man’s defined abs and his protruding male genitalia (oh god.). He managed catching _David, a study in detail_ scribbled in coal, before the notepad was snatched from him.

“That didn’t just happen.” Kyungsoo whispered, horrified, and when Baekhyun casted a quick glance at him, he could see Kyungsoo’s face was flaming crimson. “I—I completely forgot about that one.”

Baekhyun’s fingers twitched, and his blood was thundering in his ears. He probably should say something, but there was static filling his throat and his stomach was fluttering violently. The image of the man’s abs and everything under that was floating around Baekhyun’s head in circle.

There was a heat wave rolling to them, slithering between every corner and nook between them, crowding every space and Baekhyun wanted to sweat and wiped his clammy hands down his jeans and run into a fountain somewhere far away.

“This is hella awkward.” Kyungsoo muttered again, clearing his throat and eyes flicking at everywhere but Baekhyun.

“But your drawings are really great though.” Baekhyun forced through his stiff lips.

“Thanks, Baekhyun.” Kyungsoo replied, still sounding mortified and embarrassed. “Give me a second to convince myself that didn’t just happen.”

Baekhyun couldn’t help but laugh. “That didn’t just happen.” He convinced Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo smiled at him, and added in a voice that sounded like he was casting incantation, “The last sketch that you saw was the mine workers.”

“Right.” Baekhyun nodded all serious, eyebrows crinkled and head bobbing furiously. Kyungsoo snorted and the sound tickled something in his stomach.

Kyungsoo shoved the notepad back into his pocket, a ghost of a smile still playing on his face.

“So were you sketching when I approached you?”

“Yeah. I was just sketching the sky.”

“Why did you hide it then?”

He watched how the muscles on Kyungsoo’s jaw tightened and Baekhyun immediately wanted to snatch his words back.

“I don’t really feel comfortable showing people my drawings.” Kyungsoo slowly spilled.

“What do you mean? Your drawings are absolutely amazing.”

Kyungsoo’s lips tugged into an almost smile, but it turned sad when he said, “My father doesn’t really like it when I draw.”

“Why?” Baekhyun asked, softly, as if he’d spook something with his word.

“He wants me to be a lawyer just like him. He finds my drawing hobby is a bit..distracting.”

“That doesn’t sound fair.”

“It doesn’t.” Kyungsoo raked his hand through the loose strands of his hair, huffing a loud breath he said, “But I could draw as much as I want all summer, and that’s all I need for now.”

“I know all the great spots in this town.” Baekhyun blurted without thinking. Kyungsoo snapped his head at him, looking curious and excited.

“You do?”

“Yeah. I mean I grow up here. I could take you if you want?”

“I’d definitely want that.”

Kyungsoo shot him a huge genuine smile and Baekhyun found, suddenly, it took a great deal of mental effort to remember how to breath.

 

 

Baekhyun had a recurring nightmare for weeks after Baekbom left him. It usually went like this: Baekhyun, nine years old, too thin, too small, too young, too weak, running, slipping, tumbling, racing through wild tumbleweeds trying to chase Baekbom who magically had legs twice longer, shoulders twice bigger; who bolted to the sky and the ocean and all the places his little feet couldn’t reach.

He would wake up gasping, sometimes even crying, chest brimming with a sense of hopelessness and helplessness and he imagined himself bursting; bits of flesh smacking against the ceiling, the wall, the floor, bloodying his sheets, his clothes—as he lay on his bed knowing that he couldn’t do anything.

This was exactly how he felt right now.

Baekhyun’s chest clenched as he watched Chanyeol rubbing soothing circles on Jongdae’s shaking shoulder.

“She’ll be fine, don’t worry.” Chanyeol whispered, tightening his hold when Jongdae took a deep shuddering breath.

“The doctor said it was just a stomach bug, but I was really scared when she suddenly collapsed in front of me. Jongah and Jongee are so young, I wouldn’t be able to shoulder everything alone.” Jongdae broke into silent sobs and Chanyeol whispered frantically to Jongdae’s ears.

“She’ll be alright Jongdae. She’ll come home in two days. And you wouldn’t be alone, you have me and Baekhyun. We would always be there to help you with anything.”

Baekhyun grabbed Jongdae’s limp hand and squeezed it in his, offering his friend comfort when his mouth had failed him. He tried to search all over his headspace for any comforting and calming words but he found nothing. Baekhyun always felt so lost in the time like this.

Jongdae cried, sounds muffling against Chanyeol’s thick jacket, and with how hard Chanyeol was pressing his face into his chest. Baekhyun’s heart broke with every heart-wrenching sounds that came out of Jongdae’s lips.

Baekhyun was suddenly reminded of the short scrawny kid he met at the first day of elementary school: thin like stick, messy dirty hair, and a grin that always plastered on his face. Baekhyun would never forget the time that Jongdae decided to sit beside him in class, when no one wanted to sit beside the too quiet and too weird kid who wore clothes thrice his size. He always wore Baekbom’s clothes after he caught his aunt trying to burn all the things inside Baekbom’s closet. He had run to the burner, kicking and screaming, until his uncle was forced to drag him inside the house. And the next morning, he woke up with Baekbom’s clothes stacked in a messy pile beside his bed.

During that time, Jongdae had always tried to start a conversation with Baekhyun. All of those silly stories he always told Baekhyun every lunch hour had prompted him to finally open up, and Jongdae was the first friend he made when he was a kid.

But months after that Jongdae’s father left him and it scuffed the grin out of his face. That time Baekhyun would always try to come up with something silly to talk about; although it was really hard because both his uncle and his aunt were happiness killing machines. It was worth it though, because finally after his efforts, the grin was back in its right place.

Now, as he watched present-Jongdae crumpled into himself with all of the burdens he had to carry, Baekhyun felt the sudden violent urge to shred the world apart searching for Jongdae’s father, dragging his rotten ass back to this town, and telling him to take a responsibility for his family. Although probably it was a futile attempt because people like Jongdae’s father cared about no one except themselves.

“I should probably go back to check on Jongah and Jongee.” Jongdae rasped, scrambling out of Chanyeol’s hug and lifted himself off of his seat.

“I’ll take you.” Chanyeol told him sternly and Jongdae shot him a grateful smile.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Baekhyun asked meekly, didn’t want to leave Jongdae alone when he was upset.

“You don’t have to, Baekhyun.” Jongdae walked to his side and ruffled Baekhyun’s hair. “I don’t want your uncle to be furious at you again.”

“But—“

“It’s okay. I’ll be okay, I promise.” Jongdae placed a small kiss on the crown of Baekhyun’s head, and Baekhyun’s heart clenched, hating himself for getting comforted when he should be the one giving comfort. “Don’t worry. I’ll talk to you in the morning okay?”

Baekhyun nodded weakly and Jongdae squeezed his shoulder once, before walking out of Jack O’s with Chanyeol tailing behind him.

 

 

Baekhyun had gone to Jongdae’s house first thing in the morning. He brought a big container of food and Jongdae had frowned at him, saying, “Your aunt would kill you if she finds out.”

“She doesn’t know.” Baekhyun had all but shoved the container into Jongdae’s reluctant hands.

“Thanks, Baekhyun and don’t you dare to bring something again tomorrow morning.”

Baekhyun had shrugged, figured that he just ought to think of some reason to guilt-trip Jongdae into accepting his help. “Do you want me to stay with you?”

“No, go to work. I’m going to spend the day at the hospital.”

And Baekhyun had launched himself to his friend, belittling himself around him like unwanted vines. Jongdae let out a breathless chuckle, patting Baekhyun’s neck affectionately.

“Be okay Jongdae.” Baekhyun whispered, before releasing his hug and ran for his bike.

 

 

The sun bled out, and the sky was liquid violet when Baekhyun stepped inside the convenience store. Baekhyun didn’t really know what he was doing, it just that he was laying on his bed, absentmindedly flipping through Exo Planet, worrying about Jongdae, when he suddenly had this sudden impulse to see Kyungsoo. He was reminded by Kyungsoo’s promise to lend him the second volume of Exo Planet, and his own promise to take Kyungsoo around town.

Then he was suddenly all dressed up, clutching Exo Planet in his hand, descending down the stairs, and quietly making his way out of the house—passing his aunt who, since the fight, was always locking herself inside her room.

The thing was Baekhyun didn’t know what to make of Kyungsoo now.

Kyungsoo used to be a stranger: the new unfamiliar guy behind the cashier counter at the convenience store he frequented, a stranger who talked in a way that he didn’t know anyone actually did—smooth and formal and articulate, then he turned to become a stranger who lent him a comic, a stranger who lost a mother and decided to visit her childhood memory for the summer, a stranger who loved drawing and was terribly good at it, a stranger with a name, a stranger who always sent an embarrassing fluttery yank to his stomach whenever he talked, he smiled, he chuckled, he laughed, he—

Kyungsoo was less of a stranger. More than a stranger.

And Baekhyun didn’t know what to make of _that._

The store was crowded.

There was a long line in front of the cashier counter where Kyungsoo was busy scanning things after things. Although, when Baekhyun took a step closer inside the store, as if he could physically sensed Baekhyun’s presence, Kyungsoo suddenly looked up and his wide eyes light up in surprise. Baekhyun raised his hand to give Kyungsoo a small silly wave and Kyungsoo smiled mouthing _wait a sec_ to him, before going back to his work.

Baekhyun waited for him seated in one of the tables, watching as Kyungsoo working, brows furrowed and lips half pursed in concentration. Kyungsoo worked efficiently. He didn’t make any small talk, barely even sparing the customers a glance. He helped some of them loading their things out of their trolley, placing them on the counter, scanning, and shoving them carefully inside plastic bags—just a series of dull and repetitive motions. Baekhyun remembered how he used to find Kyungsoo intimidating.

Some of the customers greeted Baekhyun when they walked out, and he nodded his head to them in response.

Once the store was empty, Baekhyun got up from his seat and started toward Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo already had the next volume of Exo Planet on the counter, and he said, “You’re going to love this volume. It’s my favorite out of all three.”

Baekhyun placed the first volume of Exo Planet beside it. “Really?”

“Yeah, you get to see a bunch of different galaxies and planets, and Kai even found himself a companion.”

“A companion? A woman?”

“No. A guy.” Kyungsoo’s gaze was boring into Baekhyun when he said this, a nail-gun, a jackhammer, as if he was trying to cut open Baekhyun’s head to see what was inside. Baekhyun’s head was buzzing, sending electricity into his blood vessels, and he suddenly felt overly warm, hyper-aware, averting his gaze from Kyungsoo because he knew Kyungsoo was looking for something—something that Baekhyun wasn’t really sure he was ready to give.

“The guy is a space pirate and well I’m not going to spoil you any further than that.” Baekhyun mentally letting out a relief breath when Kyungsoo was talking again. “The point is you’ll love it. There are a lot of twists and turns, and the arts are sick.” Kyungsoo handed Baekhyun the comic, and Baekhyun took it, examining the glossy cover.  Kai was clad in a different metal suit this time, blue-purple-white. He was standing in front of Space Bolt, face serious and hands reaching up into the space-sky, mouth opened saying: _the destiny of my planet is in my hand._

“I can’t wait to start this.” Baekhyun told Kyungsoo, thrilled.

“I think you should wait for tomorrow for that.”

Baekhyun frowned, “Why?”

“Because I plan on taking you up on that offer to show me around town tonight.”

Baekhyun gaped at Kyungsoo, “Tonight? Like right now?”

Kyungsoo scratched his head, looking a tad bit sheepish, “I wanted to call you first but I don’t know your number. Do you have something to do tonight?”

“Uh..no.” Baekhyun said slowly. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. It was just that he wished he had some time to prepare himself before spending a whole night with Kyungsoo (he made it sound way too exciting than it actually was). He wished that he’d worn a better t-shirt (although it’d be a moot point because it’d be so dark and Kyungsoo probably would be too focused sketching everything around him to pay attention to him), sprayed more deodorant or brushed his teeth again (in case something exciting would happen).

“I mean I don’t want to force you..” Kyungsoo trailed off, flushing, looking both guilty and embarrassed. Baekhyun immediately scrambled to say, “No! I mean, yes! I mean I could definitely take you around town tonight. I was just surprised..”

The corners of Kyungsoo’s lips loosened and he was about to open his mouth to say something when the door to the convenience store opened and Mr. Shin, one of his uncle’s close friends, walked in. He gave Baekhyun the stink-eye, something that his uncle and his friends always did whenever he was around, before disappearing into one of the aisles.

“My shift ends at two, so you could read here while I work? I’ll bring you kinder eggs as compensation.” Kyungsoo was walking backward into the counter while grinning in a way that sent a fluttery yank into Baekhyun’s stomach.

“And Oreo.” Baekhyun muttered. Kyungsoo’s grinned widened and his eyes were dancing in mirth.

“And Oreo. Dang it how could I forget Oreo.” He said playfully. “And milk. I bet you’re the type of person who eats their Oreo with milk.”

Baekhyun scrunched his nose, remembering how Kyungsoo had compared him with his two years cousin once. He wanted to say something smart to defend himself, except that he couldn’t. He was totally the type of persons who ate their Oreo with milk—twist, lick, dunk. Sometimes he even dank a whole pack of Oreo into a bowl of milk and smashed them with his spoon before he ate it. So, sullenly, Baekhyun settled for a, “Fuck off.”

 

 

“Okay, the first place we’re going to visit is the Red Tower.” Baekhyun said as he climbed inside Kyungsoo’s truck—black, sleek, and expensive. He knew Kyungsoo came from money. The truck smelled like sandalwood and high quality leather. There was a cute spaceship keychain dangling from the rearview mirror that coaxed a small smile from Baekhyun.

“The Red Tower? That sounds scary.” Kyungsoo commented, when he, too, climbing inside the driver seat.

“That because it is scary. The tower had been there since the world war. During the great depression where the coal mine was forced to close, a lot of people had jump from there to kill themselves. Some town people swore they’ve seen a ghost of a soldier and a mine worker before.”

Kyungsoo flicked Baekhyun an amused look before he turned the car and backed out of the convenience store’s parking lot. “Why are you taking me there, then?”

“Well, it’s because the sky looks the best from there, you should see it for yourself. You’ll freak. It’s better than Starry Night.”

“Wow, I should prepare myself then.” Baekhyun almost expected Kyungsoo to wink after the sentence, or had a playful expression on his face, but Kyungsoo only looked interested layered upon excitement, layered upon genuine anticipation. And a thrill thrummed down Baekhyun’s spine, infected by Kyungsoo’s positive reaction—that he didn’t just take Baekhyun’s offer for the sake of it, that he really wanted to see this wretched town and turned it into art.

“Do you have your pad and pencils or whatever it is you need to draw?”

“Of course. I brought my sketchpad, flashlight and just in case, blanket, oh and some snack for your sweet teeth.”

“Shut up.” Baekhyun snorted. “I could still function without sweets okay?”

“I seriously doubt that.” Kyungsoo grinned and Baekhyun’s stomach flipped pleasantly. “So where should we go from here?” Kyungsoo questioned when they arrived at an intersection.

“Just follow that small road, the one without the streetlamps.” Baekhyun pointed to a dark narrow road with trees on the sides of it looking like giants with spiky tentacles as arms in the inky black night.

“Scary road to a scary place.” Kyungsoo mumbled, turning on the blinker, and swerved the truck to the scary road.

“I know. It’s so pathetically cliché. It’s like the place is taken straight from a cheap horror movie.”

“Do you like horror movies?”

“I don’t think I want to delve into that conversation right now..”

Kyungsoo was quiet before he begun, “There was this man driving alone in the middle of the night—“

“Don’t you dare!” Baekhyun shouted, frantically covering his ears with his palms, glaring daggers at Kyungsoo who was laughing his ass off. “Seriously, I’ll kick you out of the truck if you as much say another word!”

“Oh my god.” Kyungsoo hiccupped. “You should’ve seen your face!”

“You’re such an asshole!”

“I’m sorry.” Kyungsoo said without looking sorry at all, laugh still loud in the quiet night. Baekhyun almost told him to tone it down, he’d disturb the dead, but he knew that’d just make him laugh harder.

“Stop the car near the big tree. We need to walk for the rest of the way.” Baekhyun muttered sulkily. Kyungsoo’s chuckle still ringing in his ears even after the truck’s engine stopped humming and they were engulfed in a dead-silence.

“Okay, where’s the flashlight?” Baekhyun whispered. Kyungsoo was grabbing for something on the back seat. He came back with a green pack, and he was rummaging inside it, taking out a small silver flashlight.

“Alright, we’re ready.” Kyungsoo waited Baekhyun to open his door, before he, too, followed suit. He shone the flashlight and it bouncing a line of light before them. “Lead the way Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun grumbled something under his breath, marching into the dark with careful steps while trying hard not to let his eyes wandered into the forest.

The crickets were loud and Baekhyun could vaguely hear the sound of an owl hooting. It was super scary he would’ve had running away if it wasn’t for Kyungsoo, who kept making a series of awe filled sounds behind him. When Baekhyun looked at him, he found Kyungsoo was staring into the night sky—at the ocean of stars above him. Baekhyun’s brain let out a dreamy sigh at the sight.

They climbed the rusty stairs that led to the top of the tower. Baekhyun had to grab for the railing with both hands to keep him balanced. He heard Kyungsoo was panting behind him, out of exertion or excitement, Baekhyun wasn’t sure. And when they arrived at the top of the tower, Kyungsoo actually gasped and Baekhyun had to suppress his smile.

“Wow..” He wheezed, turning in a small circle to look at the sky in different vantage points. Kyungsoo then turning his head facing Baekhyun, a smile so wide stretched on his face. “This is so amazing Baekhyun!”

Baekhyun’s throat dried and he forced himself to say, “Knew you’d freak.”

Kyungsoo zipped open his pack, taking out a blanket, a sketchpad, a small tin box where Baekhyun presumed he kept his drawing tools, and a bar of Hershey. Baekhyun helped him to cover the dirty cold floor with the blanket, and the he held the flashlight, pointing it to Kyungsoo’s sketchpad, while the latter prepared to draw.

Kyungsoo shot him a smile, tossing the chocolate to Baekhyun’s lap as a thank you. But Baekhyun ignored it, focusing instead on the way Kyungsoo was carefully laid his drawing tools around him, opening a blank page on his sketchpad, and began drawing.

Baekhyun couldn’t help but think that Kyungsoo, while he was drawing, was an art itself.

Kyungsoo’s hands moved quickly on the paper—doting the smooth white page with tiny blinks of stars. Baekhyun was mesmerized, following the movement of his hands like he was under a spell.

“This is Vega.” Kyungsoo said, drawing a thick dot on the paper and circling it with a white pen. “It’s a part of constellation Lyra.” He angled his head skyward, pointed something far above. “See the dazzling blue-white star?”

Baekhyun followed the path that Kyungsoo’s hand guided. Squinting his eyes, he saw one of the brightest stars in the sky. “Yeah..” He breathed.

“The constellation looked like a little parallelogram. Vega, and see those three other stars?” Kyungsoo waited for Baekhyun to nod before he continued, “That star group is about as large as three fingers held side-by-side at arm’s length.”

“Whoa..” Baekhyun whispered, amazed. Kyungsoo smiled excitedly at him, before pouring the constellation onto his pad.

“On the northeast of Vega, there’s Deneb.” Kyungsoo told him again. Baekhyun watched Kyungsoo’s fingers reaching to the sky, pointing each star to him, and then he watched how Kyungsoo transported them onto his pad. “Deneb is supposed to represent a flying swan, but mostly people known it as the Northern Cross. And on the southeast..that one, it’s Altair.  It’s part of the constellation Aquila, the eagle, and it is placed right on its eye, you see? Together—Vega, Deneb, and Altair form the Summer Triangle.”

Baekhyun sucked in a deep breath, staring at the imaginary triangle drawn on the sky with his mouth wide open. “And..and how do you know about this?” He questioned, breathless, finally turning his head to Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo looked a bit flushed, euphoric. “I may or may not be the biggest space nerd you’d ever know.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. If I was smart enough, I’d probably apply for NASA.”

Baekhyun opened his mouth, and clamped it shut again. He felt like everyday he found out about this new side of Kyungsoo he didn’t know he had: the formal and intimidating Kyungsoo, the comic nerd Kyungsoo, the artist Kyungsoo, the space nerd Kyungsoo—he realized, that time, he didn’t really know anything about anyone. One day you categorized them into this bad stereotypical group of people, and the next day you found out that they were actually a completely different person. People were, after all, the biggest mystery of the universe.

“You could apply to some science school if you want.” Baekhyun said.

Kyungsoo shook his head, shrugging. “Nah, I guess I’d rather turn the science into art.” And then he was covering his face with his hands, shoulders shaking with laughter. “That sounded incredibly tacky.”

Baekhyun laughed, “It was.”

Kyungsoo chucked his pencil at Baekhyun but Baekhyun had ducked his head out of reflex before the pencil could hit him. He shot Kyungsoo a smug look, which the latter reply with rolling his eyes.

Kyungsoo went back drawing, and Baekhyun went back watching him, munching his chocolate and alternating between staring at Kyungsoo and the night sky.

 

 

The wind was ruthless at the top of the tower—whipping and slashing at them. But Baekhyun didn’t want to leave. He wanted to sit here for another hour, or fifteen, admiring Kyungsoo adding colors to his black and white drawing; watching it morphed into something alive and breathing and real. It was like the world blurred around Kyungsoo, how everything was pale in comparison to the universe inside the paper—the universe that he created.

Baekhyun shuddered.

“Are you cold?” Kyungsoo questioned him when he saw it. Baekhyun shook his head, parting his mouth to tell him no, but Kyungsoo already took off his jacket, revealing his bright orange uniform. “Put this on.”

“I—“

“I’m the one who basically dragged you here—“

“Because of my offer.” Baekhyun cut him.

“Just put the jacket Baekhyun.” Kyungsoo repeated, rolling his eyes.

Baekhyun begrudgingly shrugged the jacket. He needed to forcibly tilt his head upward in order to stop his nose from doing something weird: like nosing along the collar of Kyungsoo’s jacket.

“Better?”

“Uh..yeah.”

“I’m sorry I’ll finish it soon.”

“No, take your time. I love watching..you draw.” Baekhyun flushed, secretly glad it was too dark for Kyungsoo to see it.

“Thank you.” Was Kyungsoo’s only reply, and Baekhyun immediately wished for the opposite: that it was bright enough for him to see Kyungsoo’s expression.

“So how long have you been friends with Jongdae?” Kyungsoo suddenly asked, after a silence.

Baekhyun casted him a quick glance, “Uh, pretty much my whole life.”

“What about that tall guy who always picks Jongdae up from work? Is he your friend too?”

“Chanyeol? Yeah, he is, we’ve been friends since we were kids.”

“That’s impressive.”

“Well, if you live in a town where half of the population is a bunch of humorless middle aged men, that’s just bound to happen.”

Kyungsoo was quiet. “I don’t really know how to make a friend.”

Baekhyun frowned. “You mean you don’t have any friends?”

“There’s Joonmyun..but he’s more of a co-worker than a friend.”

“What do you mean co-worker?”

“We eat together at lunch and we spend a lot of time working on projects, that kind of thing. He needs my help with astronomy, and I need his help with chemistry. We never hung out after school.”

“That sounds..” Baekhyun raked his brain. “Very mature.”

Kyungsoo scoffed. “It’s weird.”

Baekhyun chuckled and agreed. “Okay, it’s really weird.” He felt rather than see Kyungsoo smiled at him. “But what’s the problem though? You’re not really that bad. I mean, you’ve only been here for like, what, 3 weeks or so? And we’re already friends.”

Kyungsoo shrugged. “It’s probably because of you though.”

Baekhyun’s heart was beating so hard, so fast, that he wondered, quite idly, if it were possible to die from it. He needed to suck in a deep breath to manage a shaky, “Because I listen to your nerdy rants and actually think that it’s cool?”

Kyungsoo laughed. “Yeah. Probably.”

Baekhyun clutched the jacket tighter around him and decided to _fuck it,_ he let his nose wandered around Kyungsoo’s jacket. It smelled like detergent, like earth--slightly musky and his nose caught something that he unconsciously had always associated with Kyungsoo, and it made him felt a little lightheaded Baekhyun had to mentally insult himself: _Cut it off, you freak! People like you should be arrested!_

“Were you born in this town, Baekhyun?” Kyungsoo’s question wrenched him into the present.

“Uh, no.” Baekhyun answered a second late. “I was born in Philly.”

“Really? Why did you move in here?”

Baekhyun blinked, somehow surprised at the question although he kind of foresaw this coming. But still, he didn’t know how to say it without making the situation turned awkward. Whenever a stranger asked him about this he would make up something—a believable lie, something light and rational, something that normally happened to people: his father got a job here, his mother wanted to live in her childhood home, his grandmother was sick and they had come here to take care of her but they’d ended up staying—anything except the truth.

But Baekhyun thought of that night when Kyungsoo had told him about his mother, and he was reminded that Kyungsoo had lost a parent too, that despite how awful of him to think like this, they had something in common. So Baekhyun carefully said, “My parents are dead, and I was forced to live with my uncle here.”

He heard Kyungsoo gasped and he realized Kyungsoo’s hands had long stopped moving. Baekhyun didn’t know what his face looked like though, because he was staring at some point in the dark forest, refusing to meet Kyungsoo’s eyes.

“That’s..horrible. I’m sorry Baekhyun.” Kyungsoo sounded sad. He was sad in a way that he understood, to some extent, the sadness that Baekhyun felt. Although it was completely unfair, because Baekhyun didn’t feel sad in the same way that Kyungsoo felt sad about his mother. Baekhyun didn’t know his parents. He barely even knew stories about them. He didn’t know their face, except frozen and unmoving in pictures. His parents almost felt like strangers to him. But he felt sad whenever someone mentioned them, whenever he thought about them, but in a way that he wished he knew about them, he wished he knew how they looked like when they were angry, sad, happy; how their voices sounded when they called his name, he wished for so many things and it saddened him—it was this pulsing strain characteristic of longing.

“It’s okay. I mean I was so young I don’t even remember their face.” Baekhyun croaked after a silence.

Kyungsoo was staring at him, he could feel it, and Baekhyun stubbornly kept his gaze latched onto the dense trees. “Is that why you want to escape this town?”

Caught off guard, Baekhyun looked at Kyungsoo instinctively. “W-what?”

“You said it once. You want to escape this town. And I kind of get this impression that you don’t really like it here. I was just randomly blurt—“

“Yes.” Baekhyun whispered, cutting Kyungsoo mid-sentence. “I want to escape this town.” Baekhyun curled to himself, pressing his cheek against his knee. Kyungsoo’s jacket almost swallowed him in this position. “But..it’s not so bad here. I mean there are Jongdae and Chanyeol, but I just hope..I hope that I could take them away with me. It’s such a selfish wish, because they have their own family in this town.”

Kyungsoo was quiet. The flashlight is in his eyes, turning them soft-caramel, warming them up. He licked his lips once, before whispering in a voice so low Baekhyun almost missed it, “I sent an application to School of the Art Institute of Chicago without my father knowing.”

Baekhyun’s eyes widened and his heart flew to his throat. He thought about Northeastern Illinois University. Northeastern Illinois University.  Northeastern Illinois University. Chicago. Chicago. Chicago. “Kyungsoo—“

“I..got accepted three days ago, and I..I think I’d go despite everything, and that makes me a pretty selfish person too.” Kyungsoo smiled sadly at Baekhyun.

Baekhyun winced at the expression. It felt misplaced on Kyungsoo’s face. Sadness didn’t suit him. Any sign of weakness didn’t suit him. Because Kyungsoo supposed to look intimidating. He was supposed to look confident. Because Kyungsoo was bigger—bigger than anyone. He was bigger than the world and everything after that.

And he was accepted in School of the Art Institute of Chicago. Chicago. Chicago. Baekhyun’s stomach churned. Kyungsoo would leave. He would leave to the place he wanted the most. He wasn’t supposed to look sad.

The wind was roaring harder, the cold was sinking deep into his bone. It was dark, it was safe, and Kyungsoo was warm. Baekhyun closed his eyes and reaching out to touch Kyungsoo’s hand. Kyungsoo jolted, his hand shook, before he turned his palm upward and laced their fingers together. Baekhyun squeezed once, and Kyungsoo squeezed back.

They stayed like that until the wind turned calm, until their palms sweaty from holding each other too tight; until the forest had quieted and they were forced to leave before the sky lightened.

 

 

He saw less and less of Jongdae and Chanyeol as the days passed. On the rare occasions where he caught a glimpse of Jongdae, his friend had told him how he wouldn’t be able to come to Jack O’s anymore because he’d need to take care of his mother. Baekhyun had assured him that he understood, hugging Jongdae and told him sternly to come to Baekhyun if he needed any help. The weird thing was, as Jongdae disappeared, Chanyeol was seemed to do just the same. He only got to see Chanyeol at the garage. Even during their shift together, Chanyeol acted like he was too busy to even spare him a glance.

Something awful slithered across his chest, tendril-like, from some dark space of his mind and had insinuated itself into his consciousness like unwanted thorn vines. What if—what if his friends had found out about all of the horrible shades within him? The thing was Baekhyun had always felt insecure about himself. It was something that his uncle had diligently reminded him. Most of the time, he was afraid about being too angry, too impatient, too selfish—and what if, _what if_ his friends had found out about that? About how selfish he was? About how he had manipulated them in choosing Northeastern for the sake of him keeping his family together? He had never have to try around his friends, but maybe—maybe they had reached their limits with him. Because there was something inside him (there was ought to be), some unidentified component inside him, some faulty wiring, that somehow, always, pushed people away in the end.

Baekhyun couldn’t help but feeling scared—because if there was one thing he was so afraid to lose, it was his friends.

 

 

With Jongdae and Chanyeol’s disappearance, Baekhyun found himself more and more in the company of Kyungsoo. Baekhyun had spent almost every night in the convenience store. He would stay there reading—sometimes he would just sit in one of the empty tables, watching Kyungsoo worked. If the store was empty, Kyungsoo would sit in front of him. Sometimes he’d draw, sometimes he would just there, talking and listening to Baekhyun.

“Where’s this?” Baekhyun asked that night, pointing at one of Kyungsoo’s sketches. Kyungsoo flicked his eyes to the paper, barely lifting his head from a piece he was working on: a sketch of the tall and graffiti-filled building in front of the convenience store.

“My house.” He replied. “That’s the view from my mom’s bedroom window.”

Baekhyun stared at the sharp coal strokes: angry trees, angry sky, angry houses, angry boy. “Did you draw this when..”

“Yeah.” Kyungsoo nodded, licking his lips. “She was getting really bad that time.”

Baekhyun let his eyes lingered on the sketch a second longer before he flipped to the next page. The next drawing was of an artsy building with Welcome to the Universe written on the front gate.

“Adler Planetarium.” Kyungsoo told him before Baekhyun could ask. “It was on summer some years ago. My first trip to Chicago.”

 _Chicago_. Baekhyun bit his lip.

“It’s beautiful.” Baekhyun said, tracing the drawing with the tip of his fingers.

“I’m moving there in two days.”

Baekhyun looked up sharply, “To Chicago?”

“Yeah. I told you I got accepted right? I need to take care of the administration and stuff.” Kyungsoo’s smile didn’t reach his eyes and there was a flicker of emotion in his face that was gone before Baekhyun could analyze it.

Baekhyun licked his suddenly dry lips. He could feel his heart bubbling purplish and yellowish, throbbing inside his chest. Two days. It was so fast. Too fast. He just got to know Kyungsoo. He just started to—before he could stop himself, Baekhyun’s mouth already parted and whispered, “That fast?”

Kyungsoo blinked at him, once, twice, before his face crumpled and his eyes darkened. Kyungsoo gulped. Baekhyun watched his Adam apple bobbing up and down—one painfully slow motion, before he said in a tight voice, “Yeah. I…yeah.”

Baekhyun immediately felt stupid. What he was doing? He knew that Kyungsoo was going to leave. He knew that this whole thing was only a summer fling—no, a summer something, a summer anything that began and ended during summer. How could he be so stupid thinking that Kyungsoo would always be there whenever he stepped inside the convenience store, when he wandered alone at night—

He was so selfish. He secretly wanted to cage everyone inside his little perfect world where no one would ever leave him and everyone would always be there for him.

He remembered the way Kyungsoo had held his hand that night; hard and tight as if he needed Baekhyun to anchor him earthbound. He remembered the way they had blushed, stuttering and fumbling with words after that; the lingering good night they said to each other after they parted ways.

“But Baekhyun, I—“

“I’m sorry.” Baekhyun cut him off, getting up from his seat. “What I mean to say is good luck, you..I mean, you’re going to be really great..you’re very talented after all. I’m sorry Kyungsoo I forgot that my uncle invited some people to come over tonight and I think I need to uh help.”

“Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun took a step back, Kyungsoo was in the process of getting up too, looking sad and confused and hurt, but Baekhyun had bolted out the door, hastily grabbing his bike. He could see how Kyungsoo wrench the door open, trying to catch up to him, but Baekhyun had already mounted his bike. He pedaled through the night, through the strong wind, ignoring Kyungsoo who was shouting his name at the top of his lungs.

 

 

Baekhyun’s mind was anarchy.

It was hopping from one awful thought to another awful thought.

He felt like he was back being seven again: parentless, brotherless, friendless. The feeling was so foreign yet so familiar at the same time. All this time he had dared to say that he was happy. Or not happy, but content. He had Chanyeol and Jongdae and he thought that was enough. They were all he needed, friends and family in one package. He never showed it to them: how much they meant to him, because he couldn’t, he didn’t know how. He never had a family, a real family, so he didn’t know how to treat one. But with Chanyeol and Jongdae, he felt safe. He felt normal. He didn’t feel like an orphan whose brother had abandoned because he was too much burden for a seventeen years old kid.

Baekhyun suddenly wished, desperately, for his friends to be here.

The sudden knocks on his door pulled Baekhyun from his agonizing thoughts. He averted his gaze from the ceiling and sat up on his bed. The door opened and his aunt stepped inside. Baekhyun’s eyes widened. The last time his aunt had stepped her foot in his room was when he was sick a century something ago. His aunt looked around his room, before her gaze settled on him.

“It’s for you.” She said, tossing a white envelope to his bed. “Don’t tell your uncle.” She gave Baekhyun one last look and walked out of the door.

Baekhyun grabbed the envelope and turned it in his hand. His stomach lurched at the sight of the familiar logo of Northeastern Illinois University. Blue and gold and blue and gold. Baekhyun’s hands were shaking so badly he needed to clench them into fists to stop it. The envelope was half crumpled and Baekhyun closed his eyes.

This was it. His whole entire future. Something that he had pushed deep in the back of his head, buried under piles and piles of messy thoughts. It would decide everything—Jongdae, Chanyeol, _Kyungsoo_ —

He ripped the envelope open. Carefully taking out the letter, Baekhyun opened his eyes. He immediately scanned through everything until his eyes zeroed in the word _accepted_ and the letter fell onto the bed.

“Oh god.” He breathed out. He took the letter again, reading everything in the speed of light, making sure that the _accepted_ word was still there and his eyes burned and his throat tightened.

“I got in.” His voice shaky and watery.

Baekhyun leapt out of his bed. He ran down the stairs. His uncle’s _what the fuck are you doing?!_ got swallowed by the sound of his thundering pulse. He race out of the house, too impatient to get his bike, all the way to the trailer parks.

 

 

Baekhyun almost shouted when he saw a glimpse of Jongdae’s weathered and old trailer. He forced himself to walk faster. Breaths came in short puffs and sweats clinging disgustingly to his back. He saw Jongdae, standing, clad in a simple brown t-shirt and—

Baekhyun abruptly stopped walking.

His eyes widened and his mouth opened in surprise because Jongdae wasn’t alone. Chanyeol was beside him and they were clutching the same letter that he was holding.

He tried to speak through his numb lips, mouth parting and closing, until he managed a hoarse, “What..”

Both Jongdae and Chanyeol turned their head to him looking surprised. Something akin to betrayal sliced across his chest. Jongdae looked guilty, his face pleading something to Baekhyun and Baekhyun wanted to scream at him.

“Baekhyun..” Chanyeol stepped in front of Jongdae, almost shielding his whole feature. As if he wanted to protect Jongdae from Baekhyun, as if he wanted to hide Jongdae from Baekhyun.

Baekhyun’s stomach was churning and churning and churning until he could taste bile in his throat.

“Baekhyun, listen, there’s something that we need to tell you.” Chanyeol began. And it felt like Chanyeol was speaking straight through him. Because Baekhyun had stopped listening after the word _we_.  We, them against him. We, them without him. Baekhyun never thought there would come a day where he wasn’t a part of Chanyeol’s we.

Baekhyun let out a hard breath. It didn’t help to steady him.

“Baekhyun?” It was Jongdae this time, taking a step out of his shield. Baekhyun took a step back, and he watched, with a grim pleasure, how Jongdae’s face twisted with hurt. “Do you get accepted Baekhyun?” he asked softly, with the tone that adults usually used on children on the verge of tantrum.

“Yeah.” He answered mechanically. It seemed like years and years ago when felt the jolt of euphoria after he read the word _accepted_.

“Baekhyun..I didn’t get accepted.” Chanyeol told him carefully.

“What?” Baekhyun rasped.

“Northeastern..they rejected me.” 

Baekhyun turned to Jongdae, “And..you?”

“I-I got in, but Baekhyun—“

“We decided that we wouldn’t go after all.” Chanyeol cut Jongdae.

“What do you mean?” Baekhyun flicked his eyes back and forth to Jongdae and Chanyeol. He felt like his heart was made from something cold and oozing—icy blood, all over his body.

“I’ve been working for the coal mine for the past few days.” Chanyeol slowly said. “Just a couple small shift. My father had been urging me to do it and I didn’t have it in me to reject him. He’s getting old. He could no longer work in the mine, and I need to..I need to step in and replace him.”

“What?” Baekhyun managed through the cacophony of chaos in his mind. “Chanyeol, you hate the mine!”

“I do. I fucking do! But I don’t have any other choice Baekhyun. My mom needs me. And I knew from the start that I wouldn’t get accepted into that college. I’m no genius like you or Jongdae. Today’s letter just confirmed that. This is my future Baekhyun. This is it.” Chanyeol sounded mad, voice thundering and arms bashing everything around him. Baekhyun watched him as if he was underwater. Chanyeol was this blurry surface he saw while he sunk further and further away.

“Baekhyun.” Jongdae was half-crying. “Say something.”

Baekhyun swallowed; once, twice, and said, “And you? What’s your excuse?”

“It’s not just an excuse Baekhyun!” Jongdae cried.

“It’s not?”

“I can’t leave my mom with my sisters alone! We live in a trailer park in case you’ve forgotten, we don’t always have enough food every day, we couldn’t afford a lot of things—what do you think would happen to them if I’m gone for four years? They’ll get evicted. If they’re not dead from hunger that is.” Jongdae was shaking all over.

Baekhyun kept yelling at himself to shut up, it’s your fault, you forced them, you manipulated them, you’re selfish, this is all because of you; the voices yelled at him louder and louder. In a voice that was painfully similar to his uncle.

Baekhyun winced as his thoughts kept hurting him, punching, beating, kicking him until he was all bloody organs nerves and vessels.

“You could’ve told me.” He whispered, defeated.

“We can’t.” Jongdae whispered back. “We can’t tell you because if you do you wouldn’t..you wouldn’t leave Baekhyun. You would stay with me, with Chanyeol, and I can’t let you waste your life like that.”

Jongdae was right. He would stay. He wouldn’t go. He wouldn’t go without them.

“Is it that wrong wanting to stay with you guys?” He cracked.

Jongdae sobbed and he could see Chanyeol’s hands curled into shaky fists. “You’ve been yearning for college, Baekhyun. Now you get your ticket. Do you really want to throw it away?”

Baekhyun bit the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted copper.

He wanted college. He wanted his friends. He wanted his family. Hell, he wanted so many things, but when was the last time he actually got what he wanted? All of those painful months he spent wishing and wishing for Baekbom to come back. Those times he wished for his uncle, or at least his aunt, showed up at parent-teacher conferences so he could tell people that he also had someone that cared. The times he wished to have a father-son and mother-son relationship like his friends; the jealousy he felt whenever he saw Mr. Park, no matter how cold he looked from the outside, had patted Chanyeol in the back after he won the local basketball match, or the sweet motherly smiles Mrs. Kim gave Jongdae whenever the guy wasn’t looking, too busy taking care of his sisters, too busy making sure there were some food on the table, those evil and embarrassing yearning he felt that he’d learn to bury under veils upon veils of self-contentment.

He could have college. But he would have to lose his friends. Was it so hard to have both?

“Baekhyun?” Jongdae called him, huffing a long shaky breath, then continued, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—I wasn’t supposed to lash out on you, I’ve been—“

“It’s fine.” Baekhyun told him. His voice sounded strange, as if someone else was speaking right through him. “It’s fine.” He repeated. “I need to go home right now. I need to—“

“I’ll take you home.” Chanyeol said, moving to get into his car. “I’ll take you home, Baekhyun, come on.”

“No, I—“ he said, confused. And before he realized what he was doing, he was stumbling backwards. The ground was shaky. Baekhyun spun on a heel and ran. That was the only thing on his mind: leave, leave, leave. That was his thing. Running. A coward. A selfish coward.

 

 

Baekhyun didn’t know what he was doing: standing in front of the convenience store dazed and confused. His feet had been moving on their own, detached from his mind, and before he knew it, he had arrived here.

He stepped inside, startling Kyungsoo who was attending on a customer. Kyungsoo took one look at him and immediately rushed to his side. He was saying something. Baekhyun watched his lips moved in a frantic and panic movement. He placed his palms against Baekhyun’s cheeks, tilting his head upward and Baekhyun saw Kyungsoo’s eyes moving back and forth and back and forth, staring intently into Baekhyun’s. His thick eyebrows furrowed and there was concern and sadness and hurt and desperation in his universe eyes. There were too much too many emotions there, Baekhyun needed to avert his gaze. Kyungsoo was saying something again, to the customer this time. And the next thing Baekhyun knew, he was escorted to Kyungsoo’s truck.

Kyungsoo opened the door to the passenger seat and helped Baekhyun climbed inside.  He gestured with his hand for Baekhyun to wait and Baekhyun nodded, or he thought he did because his head felt like a lead. Kyungsoo ran back to the convenience store. Baekhyun watched him from the side mirror.

Left alone, Baekhyun let his eyes slid shut, and he pressed his head in between his legs, breathing harshly. He might be crying, or on the verge of having a panic attack, he couldn’t really tell. The world had gone into topsy-turvy. He couldn’t even differentiate which way was up and which way was down.

There was a vague sound of the door being opened and someone was gently pushed his shoulder. Baekhyun recognized Kyungsoo’s hands—warm and big. He was forced to sit up and something warm was thrust into his palm.  Baekhyun opened his eyes to see a carton of warm milk in his hand.

“Drink Baekhyun.” Kyungsoo urged him. Baekhyun did just that, shoving the straw into his mouth and drank. The warmth pooled in the pit of his stomach and Baekhyun let out a long shuddery breath.

“Better?” Kyungsoo asked him again and Baekhyun nodded.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. You were in the middle of work and I shouldn’t have—“

“Hey. It’s fine.” Kyungsoo cut him. “It’s okay Baekhyun, but what’s wrong? You looked like—“ Kyungsoo shook his head. Baekhyun immediately felt guilt creeping down his spine, making his gut clenched, and his mind chanting _selfish, selfish, selfish._

“I got accepted in Northeastern Illinois.” Baekhyun began.

Kyungsoo’s gasp was loud in the quiet truck. “What? You didn’t tell me you were applying there?”

And it was like a dam was broken inside him, Baekhyun started to spill everything. From Baekbom, his uncle and his aunt, Jongdae and Chanyeol, college, even his self-doubts. And Kyungsoo was there, listening attentively, taking and taking everything with a calm composure—there was only a slight furrow in his eyebrows. At some point, he had taken Baekhyun’s hand in his, squeezing hard. It reminded him of that night in the Red Tower and Baekhyun was torn between launching himself to Kyungsoo crying or kissing him senseless. Both revelations embarrassed him.

“You keep calling yourself selfish.” Kyungsoo said, after a silence. “But I don’t think, after everything you’ve been through, there’s anything selfish in wanting the people you love to stay close to you.”

Baekhyun stared out of the window, at the sky that was slurring into twilight.

“You’re being too hard on yourself.” Kyungsoo was talking again. “Baekhyun.” Baekhyun averted his gaze from the sky to Kyungsoo who was staring intently at him. “If you were selfish, you wouldn’t be this miserable right now. You wouldn’t be this guilty, instead you would hate your friends, but you’re not. You aren’t selfish, in fact, you’re far from it.”

Baekhyun’s lips tried to from a smile but it came out wobbly and shaky. Kyungsoo gave his hand another squeeze.

“You’re a wonderful person. If I were you, I’d be so angry at the world.”

“I am angry at the world.” Baekhyun muttered.

Kyungsoo smiled fondly, “You’re too nice and adorable for someone who’s so angry at the world.”

Baekhyun’s breath hitched at that, unexpected roll of embarrassment tumbling into his stomach at the word adorable. He knew he was blushing, and he hastily grumbled, “You can’t call a guy adorable” to cover it.

Kyungsoo laughed. “But you are! You remind me of my dog Pippin. Pippin is really clumsy and adorable. He’s the kind of dog that bumps into furniture and eats everybody’s shoes, but at the end of the day you still want to cuddle him to bed.”

“I was your two years old cousin before, and now I’m your pet. Great.” Baekhyun deadpanned.

Kyungsoo laughed again. Baekhyun soaked it in until the sound fade. Kyungsoo gave him one long unreadable look, in which Baekhyun unconsciously held his breath, before he suddenly leaned into him. He let his head rest on Baekhyun’s shoulder, his hands fell down to the tops of Baekhyun’s legs. His warm skin brushed Baekhyun’s through the small hole of his jeans, and Baekhyun felt the world burned around him.

“It’ll be okay Baekhyun.” Kyungsoo whispered, breath fanning against his collarbone, and Baekhyun swallowed thickly.  “It’ll be okay.”

“Thanks.” Baekhyun breathed out.

“I want you to accept Northeastern, Baekhyun. I want you to move to Illinois. I want us to meet there. I want to see you every day. And this is not a selfish wish, because I told you there’s nothing selfish in wanting the people you love stay close to you.”

Baekhyun slumped against Kyungsoo, bracing himself against the raven-haired guy so he wouldn’t topple over. He clutched at Kyungsoo’s sides hard, holding them like his life depended on it. He was breathing heavily and he could feel Kyungsoo was trying to match their breath. Two lungs in tandem. Two lungs caught up in the same beat.

“Just think about it.” Kyungsoo said when Baekhyun didn’t say anything. “You wouldn’t be alone Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun closed his eyes, and hugged Kyungsoo tighter.

Tomorrow Kyungsoo would be gone. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Unconsciously, he gripped Kyungsoo’s sides harder, as if he was trying to mold himself into Kyungsoo, as if he was trying to latch himself onto Kyungsoo so that Kyungsoo wouldn’t leave—or that Kyungsoo would take him along with him. Which would be so easy. Northeastern. Illinois. Kyungsoo. So easy.

As if he could feel Baekhyun’s inner turmoil, Kyungsoo moved his hands to the small of Baekhyun’s back and pulled him further and further into his hold.

“I’ll wait for you.” He whispered in the end.

They stayed like that for a long time. An hour, a day, a year, Baekhyun wasn’t sure and he didn’t want to be sure. He wanted to be lost in _this—_ inside Kyungsoo’s warm and safe hug, with his scent: sandalwood, detergent and sweat polluting every air he breathed, with Kyungsoo’s heartbeat steady against his chest, with Kyungsoo’s lashes brushing against his skin. He wanted, so sudden and overwhelming, for Kyungsoo to drive the truck and take them away from here, together—speeding through red lights, hitting the coast and crash into the ocean, drive and drive and drive until they hit the end of the world, and they’d drive though that too.

Baekhyun’s eyes fluttered open and his dream was crumbling onto the floor when Kyungsoo let go of him and withdrew from their hug. What, he wanted to ask. But the look on Kyungsoo’s face stopped him. Kyungsoo looked determine, and nervous, his jaw was tense and his eyebrows were forming a straight line.

“I’ve always wanted to do this.” Kyungsoo said in a ragged and uneven voice. Baekhyun frowned in confusion. “I might never get a chance to do this again.”

“Wha—“ Baekhyun started but was chased off by the way Kyungsoo’s eyes flickered down nervously to his lips. Baekhyun tried to swallow, and he watched as Kyungsoo watched his throat moved. Kyungsoo’s eyes swept from his throat to his lips to his eyes and stopped there. Baekhyun knew Kyungsoo was waiting for something—a permission, an invitation, he didn’t know. But Baekhyun, out of pure dumb courage, leaned forward a fraction.

And that seemed to be the only thing Kyungsoo needed, because the next thing he knew, Kyungsoo’s lips were on his, hot and wet and open and persistent.

Baekhyun didn’t really know what he was doing, having only kissed one person inside a closet during spin the bottle when he was thirteen; but Kyungsoo guided him, tilting his face in such a way so that Baekhyun could feel each strokes of his lips, his tongue, and Baekhyun was burning and burning and burning. He was surprised that he didn’t turn into ash when Kyungsoo finally pulled away.

“Okay?” Kyungsoo asked, breathless. And Baekhyun only could nod in return, not trusting himself to speak.

Kyungsoo was kissing him again.

Kyungsoo kissed him so much until Baekhyun’s mouth was sore, his whole body turned into a liquid mess, and still, Baekhyun never ever wanted him to stop.

 

 

Baekhyun’s lips were still tingling when he walked into the small front yard of the grey house. It was pitch-black from the outside, and Baekhyun was grateful. He was so tired and strung-tight at the same time, all he wanted to do was to crash onto his bed.

He opened the door slowly, and toed off his shoes on the tiny foyer. When he shuffled closer into the house, Baekhyun realized that the lamp on the living room was still on. He noticed the presence of another human, and Baekhyun silently begging for it to be his aunt because he didn’t have any energy for his uncle.

Baekhyun crept into the stairs but stopped abruptly when he caught the sight of a man sitting on the couch in the living room.

All of the air inside his body left him in a loud whoosh and Baekhyun almost fell to his knees.

The man turned his head at him. His eyes widened when he saw Baekhyun, and his mouth was open and close and open and close, until he rasped in a ragged and uneven voice, “Baekhyun?”

“Oh god.” Baekhyun breathed, and he did fall to his knees, and then onto the floor. The man, alarmed, immediately got up from his seat and about to rush to his side, but Baekhyun stopped him with his palm. “No, please.”

The man stilled, wincing slightly, and his face twisted into a painful grimace as if Baekhyun’s palm had just smack him dab in his chest.

Baekhyun stared at the man’s face: older, much older than what he remembered. His eyes were still the same eyes. He had looked into those eyes for so many times before; dull black with brown orbs, similar to him. His nose was still the same crooked nose, like someone had karate-chopped it. And Baekhyun remembered how he used to wonder what he’d look like year after year. Most of the times he pictured that he’d look like their father. But he was just still Baekbom. The Baekbom from his childhood memories, only older, and taller.

Baekhyun stared at the man until his eyes spasm. And he was suddenly seven again: parentless, brotherless, friendless. He stared at the man until he felt raw—all organs, nerves, and brittle bones. Decaying and flaking.

Baekbom.

His brother.

A bucket of cold was spilling down his spine. Prickling.

“Get out.” Baekhyun croaked out.

Baekbom looked like he had just been slapped. “Baekhyun, please listen to me. I know you hate me, but please, you have to give me a chance. Just 5 minutes.”

Baekhyun shook his head frantically, furiously, he almost got a whiplash. “No. You have that chance 10 years ago.”

A strangled sob tumbled out of Baekbom’s lips and Baekhyun looked up sharply at the tears that were rolling down his cheeks. _How dare him._

Something snapped inside Baekhyun. Something ugly and roaring. He stood, his legs felt like leads, and he needed to hold the sharp corner of the dining table to stand properly. “You don’t get to cry in front of me! You don’t get to feel hurt! You were the one who left! I was only fucking seven. I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know anyone. Aunt and uncle hate me. I only had you but you fucking left me!”

Baekbom cried harder and Baekhyun wanted to slam him into the wall—punching and kicking him until his brain oozing out and his blood flew out of his chest drowning both of them.

“I’m sorry.” He sniffled. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry, Baekhyun. It’s my fault. Everything is my fault.”

“It is.” Baekhyun swallowed. “It is. I needed you so much. You have no idea—“ He swallowed again, the gravels inside his throat keep reappearing. “You should go. If uncle or aunt find out that you’re here..”

“No! Please Baekhyun you have to hear me out!” Baekbom was pulling at his hair as if he wanted to rip them apart from his head. “I kept remembering that day—the day I left you. I kept dreaming about it and god the guilt and sorrow I felt after that..I hate myself so much for it. I just—I really need you to know the reason—I”

Baekhyun felt depleted all of sudden. He shook and gripped the table harder. It was such a long day today, and Baekhyun, vaguely, oddly, felt such a huge longing for his lumpy bed. That was probably what made him say the next thing, “Okay..okay. Let’s hear what you have to say.”

Baekbom’s eyes widened. He seemed like he didn’t expect Baekhyun to give up so easily. “Thank you.” He breathed out with a wobbly voice. Baekbom sucked in a hungry gulp of air, before he launched into his story. “I was seventeen and you were five when mom and dad died. I was young and stupid and full of anger. I promised myself I would take care of you, I promised that I would replace mom and dad for you, but living with uncle was so so hard. Moving to this wretched town, surrounded by these shallow-minded people who kept telling me that I should be grateful that my uncle willingly took me under his roof while in fact he only made everything worse for a kid who just lost both parents. I couldn’t control myself, I was just—so angry, at everything. I kept getting into fights and it was like I couldn’t help it. The last straw was when I got kicked out of school—“

“You got kicked out?”

“Yeah, uncle didn’t want me to tell you. He threatened me that he’d send me to the system and I knew that time I needed to leave.” Baekbom started to sniffle again, and Baekhyun needed to strain his ears to hear the next words. “I couldn’t keep my promise to take care of you—I was violent and out of control. My friend, Minseok, offered me a job out of town and I—I just took it. All that left for me in this town was the coal mine, and I couldn’t—I was—“

Baekhyun let out an angry snort. “That’s it? You left me just because you couldn’t handle some teenage issues?”

“I saw them died!” Baekbom suddenly bellowed. Baekhyun staggered backward out of shock, ears ringing like after an explosion. “I saw them died Baekhyun! I was in the car during the accident and I saw their bodies—oh god—“

Baekhyun felt sick. He wanted to puke. The world was spinning round and round and round around him. “I don’t..I don’t know..”

“I didn’t let anyone tell you that bit, you were just a kid.” Baekbom gave him a sad smile.

“I—I don’t even know—“ Baekhyun’s knees weakened and he was about to crumble again but Baekbom was there to catch him this time

“It’s okay.” Baekbom soothed him, pulling Baekhyun into his arms. His left arm was tight around Baekhyun’s back, and his other arm was busy smoothing Baekhyun’s hair out of his face. “It’s okay baby.”

“I just—I wished you never had to leave.” Baekhyun was fully crying now; ugly sobs that burst out of him violently. He got snots and tears all over Baekbom’s shirt, but his brother just pulled him closer.

“I know, me too. I’m so sorry. I keep thinking about you. I miss you so much.”

“What took you so long?”

Baekbom’s shoulders were heaving. “I wanted to make sure that I could give you everything you want before I take you with me. I got a proper job now Baekhyun, and a house. I live in Illinois. And I—if you want to, I would love it if you move in with me.”

It was a strange thing—fate, destiny, kismet, serendipity. But that moment it was as if he could physically see his life’s puzzles falling into the right place. And Baekhyun couldn’t stop the surprise laugh that stumbled out of his lips.

“What’s wrong?” Baekbom pulled back to frown at him.

“I got accepted in Northeastern Illinois University.” He told the man. Baekbom’s face morphed into a smile that was as big as the entire galaxy.

“Oh, Baekhyun.” He kissed the crowned of Baekhyun’s head, cupping his cheeks and kissed him again on between his eyebrows. “That is such a great news!” He exclaimed. “I’m so proud of you. Mom and dad would be too.”

Baekhyun blushed under the sudden act of affection. He gave Baekbom a shy smile, and his brother looked like he might start to cry again.

Today was such a weird day. Too many things happened, too many bads and goods, too many confrontations and affections. Baekhyun was surprised he didn’t explode from all of it.

He did feel tender though, and somewhat vulnerable. But, in a good way. Definitely in a good way.

Baekhyun let out a soft contented sound as he clutched the back of Baekbom’s shirt tighter. His action made Baekbom cried again. And Baekhyun wanted to laugh, or cry, but it was too much of emotions for a day so he buried his head in the crook of Baekbom’s neck and tried to soak everything.

 

 

When he woke up the next day, Baekhyun half-hoped that everything was just a cruel dream. But he was happily disappointed when the paper Baekbom had scribbled his number on was still clutched in his hand.

He walked out of his room. His uncle was already gone for work and his aunt was in the kitchen as usual. Seeing his aunt brought back the conversation he had with Baekbom last night:

“How did you get inside the house?”

“Our aunt.”

“What?”

“She is not as bad as you think. I got a hold on uncle and aunt a week or so ago. I told them that I want to take you with me. Uncle wasn’t so happy about that. But what surprised me was that, aunt called me this morning telling me that the house would be empty tonight and I could use it to talk to you.”

“She did that?”

“Yeah, I guess she did resemble our mother after all, although just the teeny tiny bit of her.”

And now, looking at his aunt, Baekhyun felt a little weird. This was the woman who’d been acting like he didn’t exist all of his life. She probably just wanted you to get out of the house, the evil part of his head whispered. But the good part of his head supplied the memory of his aunt’s fight with his uncle some days ago, or she sometimes actually capable of doing a good thing.

Baekhyun walked out of the house before his aunt could notice that he was staring. He grabbed his bike and pedaled to the garage.

Baekbom had asked him to stay in his hotel last night and leave for Chicago the next day. But Baekhyun knew that they both needed some time after their emotional rendezvous and Baekbom had agreed. In truth, Baekhyun had said that because he still had a couple things he needed to settle.

Baekhyun parked his bike near Chanyeol’s Jetta.

The passenger door suddenly wrenched opened, and Jongdae erupted out of it. Before Baekhyun could register anything, he was already tackled into a hug.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Jongdae frantically whispered. “We were wrong for hiding things from you. We were wrong from yelling at you yesterday. Please forgive us, Baekhyun, you are my best best best best friend.”

“Jongdae, wait—“ Baekhyun wheezed.

Chanyeol stepped out of the car and Baekhyun noticed his after fight’s guilty look. Baekhyun smiled at him, and Chanyeol visibly relaxed, flashed him a wide smile in return.

“I never meant to hurt you Baekhyun. I just want the best for you and I don’t think trapped in this town would do you any good. But of course, if you want to stay, of course I would gladly—“

“Jongdae, I’m leaving.”

Jongdae finally let him go. “You are?”

“Yeah.” And Baekhyun started to tell them about Baekbom. At some point during his story, Chanyeol ushered them to get into his car and they ended up huddled together in the back seat, pressing arms against arms and thighs against thighs. Baekhyun was reminded of all those times they sat like this when they were a kid.

“I’m so happy for you Baekhyun.” Jongdae told him after he finished. “Really, you deserve everything, Northeastern and Baekbom.”

“I’m gonna miss you so bad.” This came from Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s heart clenched. He was going to miss them too.

“I’ll visit you guys. Thanksgiving, Christmas, Summer, I’ll visit you so often you’re going to get sick of me.”

Jongdae laughed at that, and he laughed along with him until it wasn’t so much of a laugh but more of some kind of wounded animal screeching. Jongdae’s face was a mix of tears and snots, and he knew he was the same.

“Oh man.” Chanyeol gasped, mortified. But when he turned to look at his friend, he could see a sheet of crystal in his eyes. Baekhyun pulled Chanyeol to him, linking their arms together. He could tell that Chanyeol was surprised, he and Chanyeol wasn’t exactly the touchy-feely type, but it would be a long time until he could see his friends again, so Baekhyun just silently pulled Chanyeol closer to him. And eventually, Jongdae wrapped his arms around them, linking all three of them together. They were grinning, sniffling, sobbing, and it was messy and embarrassing. The group hug lasted for a full minute, until Chanyeol decided that he had enough, getting up and excusing himself to use the bathroom, sniffling and coughing.

Jongdae and Baekhyun grinned at that.

That left just the two of them in the car. Baekhyun leaned his head on Jongdae’s shoulder and the latter hummed, absentmindedly playing with the short hair at the back of Baekhyun’s head.

“Oh, I forgot that I have a delivery for you.” Jongdae said suddenly. He straightened up, which forced Baekhyun to straighten up too, and pulled something from the back pocket of his pants.

It was Kyungsoo’s notepad. Baekhyun gasped at the sight.

“He came to the convenience store last night to say goodbye, and he told me to give this to you.” Jongdae handed him the notepad and Baekhyun received it with shaky hands. “You didn’t tell me you are close with him?”

Baekhyun gnawed his lower lip. He didn’t know exactly why he hid Kyungsoo from his friends. But he liked to have Kyungsoo for his own, crumpled him and shoved him in the very back of his heart—a place that only he could reach. A place that reserved only for Kyungsoo and his space dust. “I don’t know why I didn’t tell you.” He started, but eventually running out of things to say, so he opted to confess to Jongdae, “I think I like him, Jongdae.”

“I figured as much.” Jongdae smiled. “He’s moving to Chicago isn’t he?”

“Yeah. He said..he said he’ll wait for me.”

“I have a feeling that Chicago is the right place for you.”

“Don’t make me cry again.”

Jongdae chuckled. Then his face morphed into a serious expression, and he took Baekhyun’s hand in his. “Don’t worry about us, okay? I’m sad that I didn’t go to college, but there’s still a plenty of time for me in the future. Maybe someday I’ll move to Chicago and go to college there. There are still so many opportunities. And it’s not so bad here. Of course, it’ll be really suck without you now. But I feel better knowing that you’re off doing something great for yourself. You never belong in this town Baekhyun, you belong in some place bigger, better, and I’m so happy you’ll get there.”

Baekhyun choked out a sob. “Take care of Chanyeol.”

“Aren’t I always?” Jongdae grinned.

“Tell him to stop sleeping around.”

“He did stop. He had stopped for awhile now.”

“That’s good.” Baekhyun heaved a long sigh. “I love you, Jongdae.”

“Baekhyun, I love you too and I’m going to miss you so much.”

 

 

Baekhyun placed Kyungsoo’s notepad on his bed. He was exhausted and so terribly sleepy. He changed out of his overalls into his pajamas. He washed his face and brushed his teeth, and slipped into bed.

He cradled the notepad in his hand. The DKS on the cover boring into his eyes, and sucked in a long breath, Baekhyun opened the pad.

He flipped through the sketches that he’d seen before, stopping on the naked man sketch, smiling to himself remembering Kyungsoo’s flustered face. He flipped to the next page, and his lungs stopped working.

There was him.

Baekhyun in his overalls clutching kinder eggs in his hand. He remembered the first time he saw Kyungsoo in the convenience store. He caught Kyungsoo hunkered down on his pad that time, could it possibly that he was drawing him?

Baekhyun flipped the pad, and there was him again. Him riding his bike through the summer storm. Kyungsoo drew him as if he was flying through the storm. His bike was inches above ground.

His hands were trembling so hard that he could barely get to the next page.

Then, there was him and Kyungsoo on that time he walked into the convenience store practically drenched. He was standing in front of the counter, Kyungsoo was half-grinning at him and there were strokes of pencil on his cheeks indicating a blush.

And then he saw them sitting on the bench outside the convenience store. The night sky was drawn beautifully. In the drawing, Kyungsoo’s mouth was opened, telling a story, while Baekhyun listening to him attentively. Next, he saw them at the red tower, sitting together under ocean of stars. Baekhyun could spot the summer triangle; drawn carefully by Kyungsoo. Next, they were back at the convenience store. The strokes were desperate and wild. Baekhyun remembered the day when Kyungsoo told him he’d leave the town in two days. Baekhyun was halfway out of the door, and Kyungsoo was reaching his hand looking hurt and helpless.

Baekhyun’s heart kick drummed inside his chest at the next page: of him and Kyungsoo kissing in his truck. They were tangled, belittling each other, he didn’t know where Kyungsoo started or where he ended.

Baekhyun was surprised when he found that the sketches didn’t end there.

There was Baekhyun flipping through Kyungsoo’s notepad in a bedroom that wasn’t his real bedroom. And then there was Baekhyun pushing his clothes inside his suitcase. There was Baekhyun in a plane. There was Kyungsoo, picking him up. And they were kissing in airport. There was Kyungsoo taking him around Chicago. There was Kyungsoo and him in Northeastern, and again in SAIC.

Baekhyun flipped the pages more and more quickly.

The last page was a drawing of him and Kyungsoo in front of Adler Planetarium staring back at him, smiling happily. Under the drawing Kyungsoo scribbled his number: _I’ll wait for you. Call me._ He wrote.

Baekhyun laughed, closing the notepad and clutched it to his chest. He needed a moment to calm his racing heart, before he stumbled out of his bed. Opening his closet, he took out his rusty pack—contrary to what Kyungsoo had drawn, he didn’t own a suitcase. He shoved his clothes inside, his little belongings, his school textbooks, and Kyungsoo’s notepad.

Then, he looked around his bare room, expecting some form of sadness but he felt nothing. Jongdae’s words surged inside his headspace: _you don’t belong in this town, Baekhyun._

He hoisted his pack, grabbing the crinkled paper where Baekbom had written his phone number and hotel address, and walked out of his room.

The house was empty. His uncle was still in work and he knew that his aunt was inside her room. He thought about knocking and saying goodbye, but decided against it. He instead, rummaging inside his pack and fished out a worn out picture of his mother and his aunt. He stalked off to the kitchen and slipped the picture inside the silverware drawer, the first place that his aunt would open in the morning.

Baekhyun mounted his bike and pedaled to Baekbom’s hotel.

 


End file.
